


The Temple of Sakuyo

by Bracketyjack



Series: New Hope [2]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 113,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bracketyjack/pseuds/Bracketyjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shorter and funnier sequel to <em>Lady Knight Volant</em>, taking Kel & co. to Yaman where the Emperor has a problem and Lord Sakuyo is stirring the pot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue : The Best Jests Catch the Jester

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to _Lady Knight Volant_ , my AU continuation of Lady Knight, and will make precious little sense if you haven’t read its precursor ; I know _LKV_ is ridiculously long, but don’t say you weren’t warned! And there is a reason for the appearance in the Prologue of the full text of Kel’s ‘Note on Spiritual Warfare’, though it inevitably rehashes some events in _LKV_. The posting interface won't let me use the founts I would like to, but a certain paragraph (you'll know which one) should be calligraphic.
> 
> There is of course no canonical description of Yaman, which while clearly based on Heian Japan has (like everything else in the Tortallan world) any number of anachronisms. The samurai system seems to have kicked in earlier than is historical, and there is no suggestion that Yamani emperors are political puppets, mere frontmen such as the Heian emperors soon became. So while I have, for example, tried to be reasonably accurate in describing physical Heian-Kyó, using correct street names (there’s a map on Wikipedia) and some other details, and have looked for appropriate Japanese vocabulary, I have felt free to adjust culture (as by adding teapots to the tea ceremony) and to invent the politics and other pickles to suit myself. Similarly, while Kiyomizu-dera is a real Buddhist temple, dating to Heian times, the present buildings I partly describe are seventeenth-century.
> 
> Aa basic fact of all AUs is that if you give canonical characters very different experiences, they have to change. My Kel has grown from canon, but by this stage is not the same, having endured all that happened to her in LKV, won a war and a peace, and embarked on noble rule as well as a family. So to anyone complaining that she’s ‘out of character’, of course she is!
> 
> Several of Kel’s haiku from LKV matter here ; for your convenience, they are :
> 
>  
> 
> _The Emperor’s blades in the morning at New Hope : petals of our blessing._
> 
>  
> 
> _Sakuyo’s laughter : very many hot needles and infinite grace._
> 
>  
> 
> _Petals in water rejoice at the thunderstorm : another fine mess !_

**Prologue : The Best Jests Catch the Jester**

_New Hope, October 463 HE_

 

Count Domitan of New Hope — and Clanchief-Consort Hléoburh, though he used that title only when he absolutely had to — looked with some trepidation at the wooden crate that had been delivered. New Hope did not yet have a printer, though Kel had covetous plans, so the order had necessarily gone to the overworked but very well-reputed printers at the City of the Gods, and they had been kind or sensible enough to put a rush on it. Given how long it usually took to create printing-blocks for each page they had actually been remarkably swift, but he wasn’t entirely looking forward to the consequences.

In his soldierly heart Dom agreed with Lord Wyldon that anyone who managed not only to resist odds of better than six-to-one but to inflict a comprehensive defeat owed fellow soldiers an explanation. And Kel’s commentary on Orchan, for whom he shared her lively respect, was superb — an incisive series of dry interjections weaving into the sure grasp of stone and mageblasts an entirely terrifying explanation of how immortal aid and ruthlessly trained civilians could render the merely formidable all but impregnable. But the ‘Note on Spiritual Warfare’ on which Lord Wyldon had also insisted was something else again, and had left Kel as grouchy as a bear with sore teeth.

Admirable and astonishing as she was in noble command, and much as he loved and lusted for her, Kel was not always the easiest spouse. Her awakened appetites were a delight, even when they left his mutilated leg aching, and her occasional self-conscious regret about her muscular, scarred body he could kiss away. But while he’d made long strides in accepting her endlessly surprising attitudes to the divine regard that hedged her about, and she seemed resigned to the fact of it, having to write about how she’d used it, knowing anyone might read her words, had stuck in her craw.

“It’s all very well Wyldon saying that military historians will analyse the siege to a fare-thee-well anyway so I might as well give them the truth to work with. _He_ doesn’t have to write the blessed thing! And if he did he’d go as po-faced as an oak beam, drat his boots!” There had been a fulminating pause. “What does he expect anyway? And how in Tortall am I supposed to explain that I guessed the griffins would countenance Quenuresh’s illusion because I’d seen Junior listening hard when Kitten was telling Stanar off about the _Hamrkengingsaga_?”

Dom had survived the period of composition on short, soothing answers, diversionary love-making, and attentive care to the various cravings Kel’s pregnancy induced, especially for Yuki’s _tsukemono_. But it had been touch-and-go when he and others she’d asked to comment on her draft made their various suggestions for additional remarks, and she had eventually, in a magnificent fit of bad temper, ordered her clerk to produce a fair copy including them all and send the whole thing to the printers. With results that now sat in a crate before him and promised a renewed gnashing of teeth. Kel had once confided to him, eyes alight, that Cleon of Kennan had compared her teeth to wolfhounds romping in the snow, and while he’d laughed himself nearly sick at the time he found a sudden appreciation for the ridiculous metaphor. But prevaricating never did any good, and with a sigh he stood and used his belt-knife to prise open the wooden lid.

The codices were handsome enough, at any rate  —  bound in what the printers had called quarter-goatskin with the title beautifully stamped in gold. Gingerly Dom extracted a copy and spent a few minutes leafing though the familiar text, eyes alert for any error and for the overall feel of the thing. He thought it rather magnificent, truth to tell, but he didn’t suppose that would make Kel any happier about it, and squaring his shoulders he went in search of his wife.

* * * * *

Kel looked at the codex in her hands and at Dom’s wary expression with emotions as boiling as they were mixed. Becoming the Protector of the Small had been the elemental’s fault, and becoming a Countess ruling the largest single land-grant in Tortall the King’s, but this responsibility was hers, and hers alone. Wyldon had nagged, and most of her friends had chivied, but she had set pen to paper _and_ invited the absurd interpolations by all and sundry. She scowled ferociously at the quarter-goatskin binding.

People she knew would read this — her parents and siblings, nephews and nieces ; the Council of Ten and her Scanran liegers ; the King and Queen, Roald and Cricket, and for all she knew Lord Mithros himself. At the time she’d been guessing, hoping, and praying in equal measure, and none of that lent itself to the properly crisp, clear, and brief prose of a report. But Wyldon and Dom were right that truth was better than unchecked speculation, and it would at least spare her direct enquiries from the curious, which was everyone. So she’d buckled down womanfully to the task, trying to make it all sound sensible, but was guiltily aware that Dom had done a lot of Yes-my-dear-ing and desperation seducing — not that he’d found that difficult — by way of enduring her moods. She’d even properly consulted other witnesses to what had happened, only to be rewarded with absurd praises heaped on her aching head like coals of fire. And they wondered why it all made her want to scream?

The codex was fine-looking, she had to admit, and the embossed lettering a pleasure to run thumbs over. On her insistence the front and spine bore only Orchan’s name and original title, but it was what was inside that mattered and she braced herself as she opened the volume.

 **_The_ ** **_Principles of Defensive Fortification_**

**by**

**Orchan of Eridui**

**with**

**a Commentary on Immortal Aid**

**and**

**a Note on ‘Spiritual Warfare’**

**by**

**Countess Keladry of New Hope, Clanchief Hléoburh**

Grimly Kel turned pages. She wasn’t displeased with the commentary, and liked the clear layout, with Orchan’s excellent text and her remarks conveniently aligned on facing pages. But even now she had no idea how the _Note_ would be received, and like a tongue compulsively probing a sore tooth began once more to read it, half-reassured and half-appalled by the authority the printed characters seemed to lend her words.

 

 **A Note on ‘Spiritual Warfare** ’

_Prefatory Remarks_

My Lord of Cavall insists that I add to my commentary some account of the ‘spiritual warfare’ practiced against King Maggur’s forces during the siege of New Hope in February 463 HE. I have been reluctant, because the matter is distinct from Master Orchan’s and defies ready narrative, let alone reduction to his admirable clarity ; but I have the deepest respect for my Lord’s representations, and have so often already been asked to explain the matter that a published version seems a necessary self-preservation.

Two cautions are necessary.

The first is that far more than in my commentary I write here as a commander for commanders. Few of lesser rank will ever determine the disposition of fixed defences, but all soldiers should understand the fortifications they man, with their proper uses. ‘Spiritual warfare’, however, is in a distinct way a preserve of command, and while in my own view it is desirable that one’s own rank-and-file appreciate any such strategy, its efficacy depends in large part on _mis_ understanding by the enemy’s rank-and-file.

The second is that I acted at New Hope with the co-operation or benign regard of several kinds of immortals and the attentive goodwill of many gods. Both will grant leeway to mortals they trust or favour, and deny it to those they do not : what follows is intended exclusively for those who are sure they enjoy such status. Any who are not would best leave well alone.

Although the relevant events at New Hope took place within some twelve hours they depended on prior events dating back to the rescue mission of June 461, when the refugees of Haven were seized by Stenmun Kinslayer on behalf of the necromancer Blayce Younger, and the stolen children freed from Castle Rathhausak by night assault. What follows is therefore divided into sections – _Prior Facts_ , _Intermediate Developments_ , _The Siege of New Hope_ , and _Observations_.

_Prior Facts_

1\. I became aware of ‘spiritual warfare’ during the rescue mission. The idea had rich soil, including my experience of stormwings (to whom it comes naturally) and encounters with killing devices (agents of terror as much as slaughter) — but it was the elemental of the Chamber of the Ordeal and Irnai of Rathhausak who brought it into focus for me.

2\. My own recklessness in riding into Scanra came from my duty to the kidnapped refugees and knowledge of the quest laid on me by the elemental, but neither could at first aid those who rode with me. They had no duty of care in command, and knights familiar with the elemental by Ordeal were inhibited by received beliefs about its nature and powers, while to others it had no personal significance.

3\. This changed when they heard the elemental speak prophetically through Irnai of Rathhausak. That experience, and the aid of Scanran civilians that came with it, does much to explain the wild courage shown by all under my command in the face of very long odds, and so the success of the night attack on the castle. Twenty-nine assailants were able to overcome one-hundred-and-forty-nine defenders only because Scanrans moved by spiritual concerns showed us a secret way in, and the twenty-nine _knew_ they had preternatural blessing.

4\. Once the children had been rescued, and Stenmun and Blayce slain, it was imperative to destroy Blayce’s workshops and study, and fire the only practicable method. Departing Tortall I had not known where the children were being taken, but realising the destination to be King Maggur’s clanhome realised also that its necessary destruction would be a blow against Scanran morale and a partial challenge under _blódbeallár_ , the law of blood and fire that governs clanchief-to-clanchief challenge. Being then no clanchief, and lacking any as audience, the declaration that would complete the challenge was beyond me, but I believed the partial challenge might be effective, especially if King Maggur’s murder of his own liegers’ children to build killing devices could be made known to his subjects. The arson was therefore made as complete as possible, with hall, stables, and every building inside the walls fired, not only the keep where Blayce had his rooms.

5\. It will be observed that I could not have realised even the partial challenge without being aware of _blódbeallár_. I had been preparing to fight Scanrans for some years, and doing so for one ; believing all soldiers should know their enemy as well as possible, I studied their language, culture, and politics intensively, and continued to do so throughout the war, utilising every possible resource, including prisoners’ cultural (as distinct from military) knowledge. ‘Spiritual warfare’ can be practiced on no other basis — and nothing will ensure its failure more completely than contemptuous ignorance of the enemy.

6\. Sir Nealan of Queenscove, healer on the rescue mission, adds :

“Countess Keladry omits to mention her own inspiring leadership, evident from her first year as a page and in full flower at Haven. Those who followed her into Scanra did so in love and friendship as much as duty, but not at first with any realistic hope of success, for the odds seemed overwhelming though honour demanded an attempt be made. The revelation of the quest the elemental of the Chamber had laid on her was as much a puzzle as an astonishment : no knight believed she would speak any untruth, but the idea of conversing with the elemental was beyond belief until it spoke through Irnai. Things thereafter were rushed and I can speak properly only for myself, but I agree with the Countess that the elemental’s aural manifestation, use through Irnai of prophecy, and effective provision of aid from Scanran civilians — implying, for those willing to think about it, the interest of Lady Shakith in the affair — were critical to victory in the assault on the castle.”

7\. Count Domitan of New Hope, also a veteran of the rescue mission, adds :

“Seconded, with two additional observations. First, that the squad of Ownsmen I then commanded, like others in the Own and Army, were aware that Lady Keladry had proven exceptional as page, squire, and subsequently commander of Haven. We already believed her both superbly capable and favoured by fortune, and the elemental’s manifestation came as confirmation as well as revelation. And second, that discovering the fate of Rathhausak’s children, and the intended fate of Haven’s, raised in all an immediate revulsion of heart, mind, and gut. Our horror at it melded swiftly with our wonder at Lady Keladry, inducing a strong belief that we acted with the gods’ and other powers’ blessings.”

_Intermediate Developments_

8\. I assume the major events of the last year of the Scanran War to be familiar to readers. The gods know there are already enough ballads and sagas telling of them, and the official history of the war commissioned by King Jonathan IV and the Council of Ten will eventually provide a more objective and detailed account. The developments that matter here, however, were largely personal ; some ballads do touch on them but at best incoherently — which as they involve immortals and gods is no surprise.

9\. By Lord Sakuyo’s written testimony (in a note accompanying his wedding gift of the paintings of the siege) I was before my Ordeal as free of any god’s touch as everyone believed. My efforts certainly felt like my own, and however they may have pleased or amused any god were without divine aid or sanction. But when the elemental of the chamber chose me for the quest to curtail Blayce’s necromancy, it acted in concert with Lord Gainel and Lady Shakith, and thereafter I found myself subject to divine scrutiny of palpable weight.

10\. Under varying circumstances arising from my command at New Hope during 461 I met and spoke with Lord Weiryn, the Green Lady, the Black God, the Graveyard Hag, and the Great Goddess ; and with many at New Hope became one of Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed, having heard his laugh among other High voices when shrines were dedicated. The circumstances prompting all this divine concern were (in so far as I understand them) specific to that time, and to Chaotic remnants of the Immortals War ; what has general relevance is my growing awareness of having a degree of leeway the gods would respect.

11\. By ‘leeway’ I do _not_ mean indulgence. Had I done anything abhorrent to or in defiance of divine conscience my punishment would have been condign. What I do mean is that, with all due care for that conscience and my own honour, I might at need and to proper ends seek to cast the shadow of the gods upon the enemy without fear of being denied.

12\. I take leave here to remark that the many gods’ various senses of humour are typically taken into far too little consideration, and piety cannot in itself substitute for appreciation.

13\. In the matter of immortals I have come to believe that (with one exception) the particular kinds of whom I acquired experience and friendship in building and commanding New Hope matter less than the principle of co-operation between kinds. For the record, the kinds whose aid I obtained were dragons, basilisks, spidrens, ogres, griffins, centaurs, stormwings, and darkings, and what I did depended both on their innate powers and on the particular skills of individuals among them. But anyone else at another time will necessarily have a quite different range of kinds and individuals available. What matters is the willingness and ability to piece together whatever co-operation can achieve.

14\. The building of New Hope by mages, basilisks, and mortals, on the basis of a survey using dragon magic, and according to principles codified by Master Orchan three centuries ago, is a prime example. It could not have been done as it was, nor anything so swiftly, by any kind acting alone. Similarly, my analysis of the enemy forces during the siege depended on a combination of knowledge about King Maggur’s methods, stormwing ability to read mortal emotions, and darking contact. Only in their concert could the potency of information available from experience and briefings be realised.

15\. The resources available to me were exceptional. Quenuresh is the oldest living spidren and among the greatest illusion mages on record. Queen Barzha Razorwing, likewise, is the oldest living stormwing and a great power among her kind. But I repeat : without co-operation what was achieved could not have been, and the merged powers were substantially greater than the sum of parts.

16\. That one exception is dragons. Like many living in the Royal Palace during the 450s I made the acquaintance of Lady Skysong, the Godborn’s ward who bids fair to become a dragon of remarkable powers, yet is only in her first decades and in unfledged form and young strength significantly unlike an adult of her kind. But in 461, though then ignorant of it, through Lady Skysong, Lady Kawit Pearlscales, and my treaties with basilisks and other immortals, I acquired the dragons’ attention with the gods’, and was eventually to play an inadvertent and uncertain part in the resolution of some old business between them. Its details (of which I have in any case only the haziest half-understanding) are irrelevant here, but meant that my first contact with an adult winged dragon was with Lord Diamondflame.

17\. Lord Diamondflame is by no means the largest dragon, but he is (saving only Lord Rainbow Windheart, as Convenor of the Dragonmeet and Eldest) magically and politically dominant. To deal with him is not only to deal with the deep knowledge of more than ninety centuries, but with what is in effect the executive power among dragonkind, and gave me assurance that if he were satisfied with my actions (and motives) no other dragon would take offence.

18\. I add the obvious, that no mortal (save a Black Robe mage) can hope to fight any adult dragon. All are mages and impossible to resist by force, so should you stand in the least danger of falling foul of one the only sensible thing to do is to stop at once and open negotiations. The nearest representative of the Craftsbeings’ Guild can establish contact with Lords Diamondflame or Rainbow ; and thereafter matters may be resolved by polite and reasonable conference, provided the mortal party recognises and respects dragon concerns.

19\. Beyond this, the chance to observe the interaction, at New Hope, of Lady Skysong and Lady Kawit with the Scanran prisoners taken at the Battle of Scything Wheat (in June 462), had alerted me to the particular attitudes of Scanrans towards both _draca_ and _wyrm_ (flying and opal dragons). In a fashion scholars observe but cannot explain, Scanran sagas, with which all adults are familiar, preserve memories of dragons as they were in the Godwars — beings of surpassing power capable of visiting fiery destruction as they willed. The pre-eminent power of dragons among immortals has naturally resulted in widespread awe of them, reflected in the cultures and stories of many lands, and in the Scanran case that spiritual susceptibility is for whatever reasons exceptionally pronounced.

20\. The outcome of these intermediate developments was that at the commencement of the siege in February 463 I was aware of the following :

(a) that Quenuresh was a serious mistress of illusion ;

(b) that griffins might be persuaded to countenance an illusion if it served both jest and justice while respecting divine powers and the regard of dragons ;

(c) that stormwings and other immortals might be similarly indulgent if the same considerations were met ;

(d) that the composition of the enemy forces on which I had been briefed — loyalists, coerced (through hostages from their clanchief’s families or their own), and conscripted — was confirmed (by stormwings, via darkings) as an organisational principle informing their disposition in the field ;

(e) that Quenuresh’s and darkings’ abilities to communicate across space and kinds would enable me, as commander, to consult my allies closely, taking careful soundings in evolving any plan or strategem ; and

(f) that I had both the leeway and ample strategic inducement to deploy a fear of dragons against my enemy.

21\. I take further leave to observe that the relations of the verbs _to command_ and _to appeal_ (in all senses) deserves sustained consideration by any who would attempt either.

22\. Lord Diamondflame adds :

 _As our contact with the mortal realms is being renewed through our embassy to New Hope, clarity seems wise. We may indeed be contacted by darkings of the Craftsbeings’ Guild, and will negotiate in good faith a resolution to any conflict of our own interests with those of mortals, should one arise. But beware_ — _we will be almost as unamused by needless enquiry as by heedless conduct, and the Dragonlands remain as closed to mortals as any Divine Realm, save by specific invitation and countenance. I would observe also that the debt every dragon owes the Protector for her part in the creation of Drachifethe is not one that can ever be owed to another, and that while mortals acting lawfully and in honour may safely presume our neutrality towards them, that is all they may so presume._

23\. Sir Nealan of Queenscove adds :

“Countess Keladry again omits to mention her cumulative effect as commander on the morale and efficiency of New Hope. Besides being trained in every contingency to within an inch of our lives, all under her command there had seen her forge treaties and bonds of friendship with immortals of many kinds, including Lord Diamondflame ; we dwelt in a strongplace of unique, profoundly impressive design that we knew to be her doing ; and we had seen her devotion to our safety repeatedly demonstrated under the cruellest circumstances. King Maggur and others believed a woman’s command would be easy pickings ; we knew it would be the nut to break his teeth. The strength of the forces eventually deployed against us was dismaying, yet both rational and less rational confidence remained extremely high throughout hostilities. Countess Keladry’s obdurate and devastatingly effective defence during the first days of the siege, which set up the spiritual strategem she employed, rested on the morale she had created, and of which she was the lynchpin.”

24\. Count Domitan of New Hope adds :

“I came late to New Hope, in mid-462, as a wounded and discharged veteran, and fell into an astonishment from which I have yet to recover. The best fixed defences (and New Hope’s are outstanding) are worthless unless properly manned, and the combined efficiency and morale Lady Keladry sustained were no less critical than glacis or palisades — the more so as we were until reinforcement in January 463 badly understrength for the size of the command. It is not easy to speak of such things, but any soldier who has been in a general combat will be aware of the way confidence can crumple or surge in many individuals at once, without obvious local cause — and as reciprocals, one’s own confidence reflected in the enemy’s despair, or vice versa. Whatever confidence the Scanrans brought to the Greenwoods Valley must have begun to ebb with their first sight of New Hope, and to have run out like water thereafter, so that by the time of the spiritual strategem all but the most hardened of King Maggur’s loyalists were dubious of victory and primed to desert should (honourable) opportunity arise.”

_The Siege of New Hope_

25\. For obvious reasons the siege inseparably combined political and military considerations, and both dictated (beyond effective defence) the need to bleed the enemy as heavily as possible. Only by eliminating King Maggur’s hardcore loyalists could the trap set for him by King Jonathan be made into a complete victory.

26\. It is a maxim of Lord Raoul of Goldenlake that if you don’t like the odds against you, you should change them, which in practice usually means a flexible strategy affording multiple defeats of the enemy in detail. The trick was to manage this against an encamped besieging force.

27\. Besieging forces always need to supplement their food by hunting, and to gather firewood. I had therefore long planned a strike by concealed rockfalls against the Scanran commissariat as it arrived, with the intent of increasing their need to hunt, and had arranged with spidren and centaur allies resident in New Hope’s woods that entering them would be hazardous in the extreme. In consequence, besides casualties sustained in the rockfalls, there was from the first day a steady attrition suffered by Scanran hunting and wood-gathering parties which ate at their morale.

28\. The effects of this were amplified by the composition of the Scanran forces, and that factor was always in my mind. The particular mix of loyalist (dependable, eager), coerced (competent, willing), and conscripted (half-trained, reluctant) forces that were at King Maggur’s disposal arose from Scanran culture and his chosen methods of rule, and was the greatest weakness available to me to exploit.

29\. The position of King Maggur’s loyalists was affected by the consideration that if they failed at New Hope they had nowhere else to go. Do-or-die despair made them more dangerous, but for King Maggur set up a conflict between his need to use them to crack open New Hope and to have them available thereafter.

30\. The position of coerced troops was the most complex. Willingly loyal to their clanchiefs and obedient to command, but unwillingly loyal to King Maggur, to whom they were expendable but not lightly ; bound and counterbound by oath, _blódbeallár_ , and soldierly pride. How to disturb them spiritually was the most urgent unresolved strategy as the siege began.

31\. The conscripted were in essence civilians, and little trained. King Maggur, plainly, would use them recklessly to draw the teeth of fixed defences, and they were the most likely to desert him given opportunity. This conviction was reinforced by the organisation of the Scanran encampment, with a cordon of loyalist companies that seemed designed to forestall others’ night-time flight.

32\. I was aware of that organisation because the Stone Tree Nation emotionally mapped the arriving Scanran column and establishment of a camp for me. The aid of stormwing allies as sources of intelligence beyond mortal observation was critical.

33\. The Tortallan traitors who allowed themselves on the day of their arrival to be recklessly used against the fixed defences, before even the conscripted, were less of a bonus for King Maggur than I believe he (or Sven Bjornsson, commanding under him) supposed. Their slaughter in the killing field of the roadway, though exposing and using some of the bombs covering it, provided an object lesson for the coerced and conscripted — that to be in the van of any assault on New Hope was to die, swiftly and in great numbers.

34\. As much might be said of the assault by giants at dawn on the second day, who must in the way of immortal allies have had substantial spritual value for all Scanran forces. Moreover, the manner of the giants’ final defeat in that assault — the petrification by Var’istaan of the foremost, standing on the outer parapet, and its toppling outwards (to shatter explosively on the glacis) by Master Numair Salmalín — established an ascendancy of Tortallan immortals and magery that played a major part in the success of the spiritual strategem. I will add that the only ballad arising from the siege I am happy to recommend is that in Old Ogric known among immortals by its short title, the _Song of the Surprise of the Petrified Giant who fell from the Outer Wall of the Citadel of Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed known among Mortals as New Hope and so Proving during the Great Spiral of the Timeway that Concluded the Feud of Gods and Dragons concerning the Godslain of the Godwars_.

35\. Although I was not yet aware of its nature, the Scanran efforts to assemble what would plainly be a siege engine of great potency, evident from the second day, made it imperative for me to take as much offensive and disruptive action against the Scanran forces as rapidly as possible.

36\. It was also clear that, prior to any further assault, our greatest danger came from very heavy Scanran volley fire ; and the simplest analysis showed that the weight of fire was due to the use of a high percentage of the besieging forces as archers. As a volley weapon at distance the bow is the easiest of military skills to acquire, and outside cities many civilians have a basic defensive or hunting competence. Thus King Maggur was able to employ a large part of his forces to maintain what seemed a perpetual rain of arrows, and so wage a war of attrition I could not begin to afford.

37\. The mere picket assigned to watch the corral showed the Scanran command to be unaware of our capacity to sally, but given the respective strengths of the forces no sally was then likely to be profitable, and very likely to prove a disastrous loss.

38\. It was therefore imperative to devise a strategem that would maximally divide and weaken the besieging forces, and the obvious tools available were my immortal allies, including a great illusion mage, while the obvious Scanran weaknesses were the tripartite division of their forces and their peculiar attitude to dragons.

39\. Plainly, therefore, the illusion of a dragon threatening vengeance was called for.

40\. Equally plainly, the effect could be maximised if :

(a) the cordon of loyalists could be diposed of ;

(b) the conscripted could be offered a flat choice between staying to swift doom and flight to safety ;

(c) some play on _blódbeallár_ could be made that would disturb the sensibilities of the coerced ; and

(d) the illusion were enhanced as much as possible, as unexpectedly as possible, and in some fashion given the additional seeming of divine endorsement.

41\. Effects on morale may be achieved at a blow, but are more often achieved incrementally. Bluntly, a one-two punch works better than a haymaker.

42\. The spiritual strategem was therefore devised in what I always thought of as three acts, as in a stage play. The first was the illusion proper — by Quenuresh’s grace, as large a dragon as she could manage, more closely resembling the violent dragons of Scanran saga than the reality of living dragons, enhanced in every way possible. Besides the use in seeming dragonfire of the runes _ctheorh_ and _yr_ , the fire-bow, associated with the vengeance and might of dragons, stormwings, griffins, and many birds took to the skies shortly before the dragon’s appearance, shrieking in their own way, while every dog barked and a cat howled from the alures.

43\. The participation of the People was possible because of the effect proximity to the Godborn has, and because she had gifted many at New Hope with greater wit. My sparrows were able to recruit wild cousins, and apparently spontaneous participation by animals usually unaffected by mortal illusions lent this one a spurious credibility.

44\. The griffins also participated by escorting the illusory dragon. This was possible only because :

(a) the griffins (who honour dragons as senior kin) were aware I knew Lord Diamondflame, and that the defence of New Hope had received his blessing ; and

(b) were further aware, through their son (whom I at one time raised, and who has since their relocation to the Greenwoods inserted himself irrepressibly in mortal affairs), that I proposed to visit on the Scanrans, in punishment for attacking a place blessed by a dragon, a reflection of their ‘song-lies’ about dragonkind.

45\. Given griffins’ innate opposition to falsehood (and the role of the Honesty Gate in detecting the coerced refugees early in 462) their presence made it particularly hard for King Maggur’s mages and others who could sense the truth to proclaim it. But if all the enhancements helped, another truth is that the conscripted Scanrans at heart believed in it because they were by then strongly predisposed to believe themselves doomed and revile the king who had made them so.

46\. The second act, in darkness, was a slaughter of the loyalist perimeter penning in the conscripted. It was necessary this be achieved silently, and it was undertaken by a mixed force of spidrens and centaurs, cloaked by Quenuresh, who cut open canvas and passed unseen into tents. Complete elimination of the perimeter was neither possible nor necessary — but it was sufficiently thinned and weakened that it could not resist any stampede of the conscripted.

47\. The third act had to be the hammerblow, and was therefore designed to take maximal advantage of both _blódbeallár_ and the leeway I was afforded by gods — in particular Lord Sakuyo, who likes his tricks. With the assistance of Masters Numair Salmalín and Harailt of Aili in waking the Scanran camp shortly before dawn, I was able to invoke _blódbeallár_ by calling on Maggur Reidarsson by bare name. An _extremely_ carefully worded gods’ oath then _seemed_ to endorse the vengeance promised by the illusion, though actually attesting to no more than the gods’ detestation of necromancy and expressed care for New Hope ; and was itself endorsed by chimes that were in Lord Sakuyo’s amusement made especially loud, and accompanied by the hawk’s scream of Lady Shakith. It only remained to inform the conscripted that the way was open for flight, and if they took it spidrens and centaurs in the woods would let them pass _and_ supply them with rations, making survival a genuine as well as attractive possibility.

48\. In the event, it worked to the very best of my hopes. The conscripted fled, almost to a man ; and the coerced were sufficiently troubled by the implications of the supposed dragon and manifest chimes that after negotiations with King Maggur and Sven Bjornsson they formally withdrew from combat to await the decision of my challenge, in Maggur Reidarsson’s death or my own. This was not the sensible aversion to being sacrificed of the conscripted, but proper (and under their circumstances very courageous) behaviour in accordance with _blódbeallár_.

49\. The strategem was critical to ultimate victory, because it reduced the effective forces available to King Maggur for the assault, and ensured it would be made by his loyalists ; who were slaughtered in the killing field of the roadway by blazebalm, pit-trap, dragonfire, and innumerable volleys. Only a skeleton guard was left around King Maggur and his commanders, who thus became vulnerable to a sally.

50\. Although by grace of Lord Diamondflame I could use dragonfire in defence of New Hope, and had planned the illusion in full knowledge I might in a limited sense be able to make it real, I desperately hoped _not_ to have to use that dragonfire. Any who have seen what it does to flesh and bone will know why. But in the event I had no choice, and although there was no material connection the real dragonfire seemed retrospectively to confirm the illusory dragon. This helped to make effective my call for a _blódbeallár_ truce once my glaive was at King Maggur’s throat.

51\. So may my use, shortly before the assault, of a sunbird-fletched arrow to destroy the trebuchet, but I did not then relate its fire to the theme of the illusion. The gods and dragons probably had anticipated the connection, but to what end or interest I cannot say.

52\. The role of the Stone Tree Nation in King Maggur’s death was part of a different pattern altogether, and I regard it as a blessing of Lord Sakuyo, and perhaps other gods, that it served to compound the spiritual strategem and helped to sustain the _blódbeallár_ truce. I did however realise in the moment that King Maggur’s death at no Tortallan’s hand forestalled any direct loyalist challenge in vengeance.

53\. Sir Nealan of Queenscove adds :

“The fact is, Countess Keladry played the Scanrans like a rebec, and while I devoutly believe that more gods than Lord Sakuyo assisted her, I also believe that the gods act with and on what a mortal can offer them ; gods-blessed to the helm as she may have been, what happened was her doing. I claim a minor proprietary interest, as the term spiritual warfare is my coinage (in discussions during and after Rathhausak) ; but she is the master of its practice. Very much against her will, I take leave to add that the bitter garden in which that mastery grew was the widespread and in some cases unremitting hostility to which she was subject as page, squire, and lady knight (commander). I do so because it is connected : the besiegers of New Hope included traitorous Tortallan forces, motivated in no small measure by personal contempt and hatred, and their summary annihilation on the first day of combat was an evident and deadly justice that underpinned the (illusory) threat of righteous draconic vengeance.”

54\. Quenuresh adds :

“The illusion of a flying dragon generating runes of fire was the most complex I have ever undertaken. As I have often found occasion to remark, the Protector makes life unusually interesting. The griffins’ participation was a significant factor in my agreement ; so too (though she will not thank me for saying so) was the Protector’s demeanour in the immediate aftermath of her return by the Black God and his daughter. No greater agony and dislocation can be imagined, yet the Protector’s utter commitment was unchanged. I have now lived more than sixty centuries and never seen the like in any other mortal. And besides, it is always wise to heed those the gods regard.”

55\. Kuriaju adds :

“The Old Ogric ballad to which the Protector refers was composed by Olimiariaju, familarly known as Earfiller and much esteemed. It has been added (by order of the Ogric Council) to the compulsory teachings of our young. I also endorse the Protector’s remarks about it being the idea and not the particulars of cooperation that matters : her name among us might be translated in part as _the mortal woman of their younglings who sees the great truths of farming, mining, and fighting alike_.”

_Observations_

56\. All that is really at stake is the truth of two simple and time-honoured maxims – _know your enemy_ and _know your own strengths_. And all I did was to devise the best plan I could, given the resources I had and the opponents I faced.

57\. The only assumptions I made were that my enemy was subject to mortal fears and misunderstandings, and that all gods have a sense of humour that may be hard to appreciate but is an honest guide once found.

58\. King Maggur’s army could not have been so divided and reduced by any strategem had divisions with wrenching internal effects not existed in the first place. I told him before he died that he had sold his nation piecemeal to the gods, and meant it.

59\. In truth, for all King Maggur’s brutal efficiency, energy, and innovative cunning, his rule never achieved stability. Seizing power by force and holding it by extorted oaths, he was driven to war less by Scanra’s need than by his own momentum, and like a man running downhill found that to stop would be to fall. To trip him was in the end a simple thrust, the work of a moment, however complex the elements that made it possible.

60\. While gods and dragons each had their reasons for withholding objection to a strategem improperly invoking both, their mutual amusement at its essential justice and mercy — exploiting false belief and true guilt to preserve lives — was (I am certain) an essential inducement. While demanding all proper respect, both in my experience have long been bored with mortal fawning or fear and prefer witting temerity, especially on others’ behalves.

61\. A spiritual strategem attempted to a (largely) selfish end would therefore not fare well in divine or most immortal eyes, while one maximising benefit to all — the enemy’s rank-and-file as much as one’s own — will far more probably do so.

62\. My inspiration was the sacred Yamani practice of practical jokes in the name of Lord Sakuyo, and whatever Sir Nealan says, what happened at New Hope, strategem and all, was by his own divine testimony only one part of his greatest jest in an age, that however it may seem of my devising was played _on me_ as much as on all Tortallans and Scanrans, and over at least two generations. Only consider — _a Lady Knight running a refugee camp asked a spidren mage, a stormwing nation, three griffins, and some dogs and sparrows to help her stop the killing by frightening the enemy with an illusory dragon_ — and you may begin to sense its shape.

63\. My being a woman was thus relevant in so far as it contributed to the mortal prejudices and misperceptions against which Lord Sakuyo’s jest was (in so far as I understand it) directed. It served and amused divine purpose to have a girl win a war by stopping it, and to understand more you should study the ways of Lord Sakuyo and the Great Goddess.

64\. Lady Yukimi noh Daiomoru of Queenscove, a veteran of the siege, adds :

“While I believe Countess Keladry is quite correct in her perception of a very great divine jest that turned on her identity as a lady knight (and achievement of that status and of command, despite bitter opposition and to general astonishment), the best of Lord Sakuyo’s jests catch the jester even as they work their good. If the High One is himself caught up into Tortall, so the Countess has been caught into a duty of care encompassing a mighty fief, and a creation that will fill all her years and outlast her grandchildren’s — a Blessed jest in very earnest, as the best must be.”

65\. Lady Skysong adds :

_I thought it was an excellent joke when I learned of it in proper detail from Quenuresh. The Scanran king did very bad things and Scanran sagas say many ridiculous things about dragons. Scaring the men who attacked New Hope with a most improbable one was a proper response, and the tale is much laughed at in the Dragonlands and, according to my grandsire, other Divine Realms also._

66\. Quenuresh adds :

“Though I doubt it was ever intended to encompass them, some wider aspects of what the Protector rightly deems a divine jest are not lost on immortals. If Tortall’s present society was surprised to find its foremost young knight commander to be a heroine rather than a hero, immortals have been equally surprised that such wise power should arise in a mortal, let alone one so young. It has not happened in two eons, and all kinds known to me have been instructively amused by the ironies implicit in the Protector’s still unfolding tale.”

67\. Ebony adds :

“Darkings approved. Funfunfun.”

68\. Stenmun Gunnarsson, Clan Somalkt, who was subject to the strategem and participated in the negotiations with King Maggur that led to the withdrawal of coerced troops from combat, adds :

“I can see that dragon even now, and knowing it to have been an illusion does not diminish the shock of memory. Clanchief Hléoburh is right that sagas primed us, and that immortals’ and animals’ reactions sowed doubt of illusion despite assertions by mages and giants that it was so. But she is also right that it was as much an excuse for honour to reassert itself among clansmen as a flail to drive conscripted civilians into flight. The runes also were superbly judged, a reminder of dire justice for dire crimes, which I believe to have happened at New Hope when the truth behind illusion was fulfilled in the fate of the _beserkir_ and others who died assailing New Hope in defiance of fair and generous warning. I would also call _justice_ much of what the Clanchief calls _jest_ , but Scanra too was profoundly surprised to see our late and unlamented king fall to a woman not then of age yet also a dragonlord, and remains so at finding her now a clanchief of the nation.”

69\. Lord Sakuyo, deserving as often the last word, adds :

 _My favourite daughter is a gem, isn’t she? My jest needed a puissant female warrior, and Keladry-chan was shining so brightly to hand_ — _so great in spirit she was much in favour with a dozen of my brothers and sisters, and a marvellous jester in her own right, not that she usually realises it. Only gods, of course, may appreciate my jest (and hers within it) in its full magnificence, though that shouldn’t stop mortals trying, and we laugh at them still ; as you would, reader, could you see your own face at this moment, and be the better for it._

_S._

 

“ _What?_ ” Kel sat bolt upright in her chair with indignant astonishment. “Dom! What’s this last paragraph doing here?”

“Eh?” Dom looked up cautiously from his own copy. “Stenmun’s stuff?”

“No, after that.”

“Um, there isn’t anything after that.”

“There is now.” Grimly Kel held out the book and he came to look.

“Oh. My.” The offending paragraph was not printed but in a casually beautiful small calligraphy. Walking carefully, Dom went back to check his own copy and swallowed. “It’s in mine too, which I swear it wasn’t earlier.”

“Wonderful. More divine humour at my expense.” Kel was too shocked to be angry, staring at Dom in consternation until both of them heard the laughing voice.

_Think it through, daughter,_

“Gah!”

But as she did so a smile slowly glimmered onto Kel’s lips. “Well, I don’t suppose it’ll hurt sales. We’d best warn the printers even more copies than we thought will be needed, I suppose. And get a licence to print their own to Yaman double quick.” Her eyes rested on the gorgeous calligraphy and her smile sharpened. “ _Everyone_ there will want a copy, and if there’s any justice His Nibs’ll get writer’s cramp.” She couldn’t stifle her laugh at Dom’s shock and felt the calm of Lord Sakuyo’s amused blessing well up in her breast as she contemplated Yuki’s and Cricket’s reactions. Not to mention that of the king. And quite a lot of other people’s too.

* * * * *

Suppressing laughter but not her smile, Thayet reverently closed the explosive little codex and looked at her husband. “And?”

“And complete mayhem!” Jonathan was half-smiling himself, though. “The commentary is terrifying, the ‘Note’ is extraordinary, and Lord Sakuyo’s words will have half the population raving, never mind every last divine. I can’t _begin_ to imagine what the effects will be in Yaman.”

“So? That’s not your problem.” Thayet leaned forward. “Jon, Lord Sakuyo says we’d be the better for laughing at ourselves. I’ve been telling you that for years. And don’t you see? His words _are_ the purest spiritual warfare — they make Kel’s book a … I don’t know, a working lesson, an embodiment of the thing. It sets his cat among our pigeons as surely as Kel set her dragon among the Scanrans.”

Jonathan was arrested and his face grew very thoughtful. After a moment he shook his head slowly, as if to clear it.

“That’s … very sharp indeed, love. A gift to us all through her, and a diet of divine ironies. Gods!” He gave her a rueful look. “I wish I was better at them.”

Thayet was still smiling. “Try asking Shinko. She’s very interesting on Lord Sakuyo, and on our Kel. And remember what she said Kel said to her at Lalasa’s wedding — that she thought she and Shinko were both parts of a divine joke on us all.” Her tone grew thoughtful. “I bet that’s what Kel means about Lord Sakuyo’s jest spanning generations. The gods must work with mortal possibilities as well as realities. Maybe what the Goddess did with Alanna was the model.” Clarity flashed in her mind. “No, the seed. And this is another seed, for Roald’s reign as much as yours, and he has Shinko to help him with it. I bet in one part of the jest this is her dowry as well as Kel’s.”

Jonathan slowly nodded, more resigned than dismayed. “Wisdom, love, though not a perspective I much care for. Nor for having my reign quite so summarily redefined.”

“Live with it, and cultivate your sense of humour. Try thinking of all the fun you’re going to be able to have over the next few years goosing people with presentation copies.” Thayet gave an urchin grin. “What do you suppose Lord Wyldon’ll think when he gets his?”

* * * * *

Wyldon very gently closed the volume, feeling the roil of shocked emotion, and found his uppermost thought a rueful appreciation of the value of lessons from the young. He rubbed his forehead, little finger trailing down to his scars, and was arrested as so often of late by the absence of pain. When Baird had treated him after the great sally for the sword slash he’d taken that bisected his hurrok scars, the healer had at Keladry’s insistence, brooking no opposition, done what he could to ease the older wounds. He’d been too shocked by all that had just happened — and, he knew, too much in awe of what Keladry had done — to protest ; and what this absence of pain meant, or his prior addicted pride to enduring it without the relief available, he was still discovering. The process was properly uncomfortable, and yet beyond all doubt an extraordinary blessing on a life turned upside down.

He had thought himself an honest and conscientious man, upright in the sight of the gods, but the magnitude of his error in judging Keladry, the rolling revelations of his ignorance, and the benison beyond deserving of her friendship despite it all had collectively left him reeling. Return to Cavall and its much missed familiarities had helped, though even here the visits of Wuodan and Frige were transforming his beloved kennels. And now this! Sighing softly he steepled his fingers and considered the grey-eyed hellion intent on his daughter, who had brought him the book on Keladry’s behalf and was waiting patiently, seated in the other chair.

“She’s done it again, hasn’t she?”

Sir Owen of Jesslaw grinned. “With Lord Sakuyo’s help, my Lord. It makes my head spin, but with Kel that’s usually the point. Even Quenuresh agrees.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That stuff about the Protector making life unusually interesting? For an immortal that’s strong words, and they’re all at it.” He frowned slightly. “I must ask Kuriaju about that ballad next time I’m there. It sounds jolly.”

Wyldon blinked, but the thought came that he had never actually heard an Old Ogric ballad and Jesslaw had a point. “Only you, Owen.” He saw the boy’s — man’s — pleasure at so simple a thing as use of his name. “But tell me what else you understand of this astonishing document.”

“Of course, my Lord, but I meant what I said about my head spinning. Kel always catches us out on our silly assumptions. This is more of the same, and as best I understand Yuki’s explanations that’s what Lord Sakuyo likes doing too.” The grey eyes became shrewd in that disconcerting way. “But I think _he’s_ learned a thing or two worth knowing from her about how to do it and the book’s the result.”

Long inured to Owen’s grammar, Wyldon found that while his head hurt his heart didn’t, and that he wouldn’t be surprised if the cheerful impiety was squarely in the gold. To meditate on that would take privacy and time, but praise where praise was due.

“That’s a very interesting thought, Owen. Thank you.”

His smile was returned.

“You’re very welcome, my Lord. And you should ask Wuodan next time he turns up. He’s a friend of Dabeyoun’s too, so he should get the trickster perspective as well as the divine one, and all with hound sense.”

Owen nodded sagely, and Wyldon let his head rest on his hands for a moment. It was easier.

* * * * *

Jorvik Hamrsson looked around the Council of Ten, gauging tempers.

“So. We have all read it and shuddered. ‘Played us like a rebec’ is right.” He sighed. “And yet, would any here willingly go back to the days of Maggur Reidarsson? Or deny that we have been done great benefit against our desires and to the humbling of our pride? Spiritual warfare indeed.” He paused, then went on more briskly. “A true response will be required, but in the meantime I propose a Council order requiring every Clanchief, deputy, and chiefsman to read this. And I suggest strongly that we all make very sure our own heirs understand the principal lesson, which is that anyone in their right mind should treat Clanchief Hléoburh much as she sensibly suggests that all treat dragons.”

There were rueful nods all round.

“The bards must read it too, Jorvik Hamrsson.” Ragnar Ragnarsson, inevitably, grinned at his fellows on the Council. “I knew they weren’t getting it right. And while you’re quite right about the lesson, and about dragons, shouldn’t we also hasten to _thank_ Lord Sakuyo for his blessings?” He clasped great hands before him. “In all seriousness, that High One is already present among us, as among our new Tortallan allies, and he should not go unrespected even as he is heeded.”

Hamrsson blinked. “That sounds like wisdom, however hard to swallow. What had you in mind, Ragnar Ragnarsson?”

“Proper shrines at least, here and at Somalkt if nowhere else.” Blue eyes gleamed unnervingly. “And his Day of Jests in April, as they have in Yaman and at Hléoburh. _There_ is a tradition we could profitably adopt, and enrich in our own ways. Think of it! All of Scanra jesting with the spring!”

They thought, and shuddered again.

* * * * *

Neal would have laughed for a week if Yuki had let him, but even she could hardly object to his joyous guffaws while they were thanking Lord Sakuyo at the shrine she maintained, nor to his happy promise to build Queenscove a proper one — a temple, even, as he more soberly suggested to his father later that evening.

Baird nodded at once. “Yes indeed, Nealan. I should have thought of it myself. It’s only proper for Yukimi, and understanding more clearly how active Lord Sakuyo was at New Hope, for all of us too.” He smiled at the thought. “And it’s not as if they’ll be any objections once _this_ news gets about.”

Neal grinned. “No. A _lot_ of new Sakuyan shrines and temples will be dedicated, I’m sure. We should get first dibs on Master Geraint and the Guild team when they get back from Edo.”

“More good thinking.” Baird made himself a note. “Piers may forestall us, though. And the King.”

“Second or third dibs is fine.”

“Yes.” Baird’s voice became teasing. “I enjoyed your paragraphs, though I don’t suppose Keladry thanked you for them.”

“She was furious.” Neal grinned unrepentantly. “Yuki agreed, though. And _her_ paragraph just made Kel nod resigned agreement, according to Dom.”

“You’ve corresponded about it?”

“Spellmirror, when I was in Corus. He was very wary about the whole thing at first, because Kel was so grumpy, but he agreed with Wyldon it ought to be written and finessed Kel into allowing all the comments to stand. And mine were some spiritual warfare of my own — Kel being so modest that she solicited comments meant she had to put up with those she got. Which were all true anyway.”

Baird had to laugh. “I thought so, from my limited experience of her command. And I do agree that her evident modesty even when her name resounds across realms is as odd as it is astonishing. But you know, I’m back to feeling I don’t understand her at all.” He became reflective. “It seems to come in waves — I think I might have some grasp of who she is and then discover all over again that I don’t have a clue. To walk so with gods and dragons!” He shook his head. “And yet she seems to think everything she does straightforward.”

“Because it is, father.” Neal’s hands began to wave. “It was when she was a page, and it still is. Bullying’s wrong, knights should fight wrong, pages are training to be knights, so punch the bully even if there’s three of him two years senior. And New Hope was just the same. Not just that dragon and the trebuchet, but, oh, the corpses, say. You and I were flapping healers’ hands with worry, Numair and Harailt were fossicking after blood magic and wondering what to do, and hundreds of people with all the relevant facts were hating hard labour under _vile_ conditions to clear the roadway, making only the slowest progress, and dreading the morrow. And then what?” Arms waved with wild eloquence. “Kel takes one look and goes, ‘Right. Sorcerer’s Dance to clear and pile, raw power to cleanse, and a sunbird arrow to cremate. Chop chop.’ And less than ten hours later it’s all done.” He scowled ferociously. “And the fact that no-one who saw it will _ever_ forget it is to Kel merely a side-effect of self-evident necessity. She says she was simply getting on with her plain duty in the simplest available way. It’s outrageous.”

Suddenly he sobered and looked at his father with shadowed eyes.

“Actually, we’re friends because we’re opposites in most respects. Kel must have had hammering emotions after seeing her mother save those swords, but the Yamani training locked it all down tighter than a drum. And I had no emotional control at all, for reasons I’m sure you and mother understand all too well. So we complemented one another in the nature of our scars. But it took me far too long to understand … I still don’t know, the steel of her goodness, maybe, which is what her directness expresses. See wrong, smite it. See the vulnerable, protect them. Now, with no excuses or expedient delay. Mortals, immortals, People, gods — it makes no odds to her. But even her mother admits she can be earnest to a fault, and what I really think about that thing” — he gestured to the book — “is that Lord Sakuyo’s paying some very overdue wages. Those paintings were a first installment. This is a second.”

An unholy grin lit his son’s face and Baird felt his heart beat more fiercely.

“I wonder if there’ll be a third?”


	2. Summons

One : Summons

_New Hope, Midwinter, 463 – February 464 HE_

“You want _me_ to speak?” Kel looked at her parents and brother in some distress.

“You are the host, my dear. It’s perfectly traditional.”

“But you’re head of the family, Papa. And the duke.”

His voice was gentle. “So I am, but our family’s future is now as much or more your creation as mine and your mother’s. And it’s quite clear New Hope will be its heart, however Mindelan prospers in harness.”

Kel looked worriedly at Anders but he was smiling and for a moment she could see their father in him. “It’s true, Kel, and you know it. So do our people at Mindelan — and they have done since you marched Vorgitarl into the town square.” He shook his head at the memory. “They know leadership when they see it, as I do, and Inness. And frankly, little sister, I thank Lord Mithros and the Goddess for it, on my own behalf now and on Lachran’s for the future.”

“We all do, sweeting.” Ilane sat forward. “Why do you think I insisted all the children come for Midwinter, though they’d been here for your wedding and it meant Tilaine leaving poor Inness on his own at Mindelan? It’s not just because they’re all thrilled with young dragons. Not that that hurts, mind, but it’s the future that matters, and they’ll all be factors and emissaries you can trust.” Kel’s eyes widened and her mother looked smug. “Kin who understand _you_ , sweeting, not just your legend, and understand New Hope because they’ll have grown up with it. And kin who have connections with Richcaffery, Teresian, Nond, Hannalof, and haMinch — you could do worse than extend some discreet patronage to your in-laws, you know. Make them gateways for apprenticeships or employment at New Hope.”

Momently speechless between her urges to laugh and howl, Kel found her mind kicking in and heaved herself upright, walking to the window to stare out towards the shrines. Cheerful nepotism was how Tortall worked and didn’t bother her in the least — blood _was_ thicker than water, and by the time her nieces and nephews were of an age to want apprenticeships or jobs they’d be welcome, while kin networks established by marriage and fostered by patronage were always useful. Despite some pressing invitations she and Dom had declined to go to Corus for Midwinter — the Council of Nobles wanted to welcome her to its ranks, the Army Council had any number of urgent things to talk about, the city Wardsmen felt they had to show her their progress with icelights, and her Maids, much more temptingly, were throwing a party to celebrate their success, but she’d had more than enough of kings for one year, and thought His Majesty probably felt the same way about protectors. Her parents, however, once they realised she was serious in her refusals, had promptly invited themselves to New Hope, her father giving Duke Baird his and Kel’s proxies for the King’s Council and her mother dragooning half her siblings to come as well. But the point about recruiting _now_ from her brothers’ and sisters’ fiefs might answer a pressing question.

As local treaties with immortals mandated by the King spread across Tortall, the Craftsbeings’ Guild necessarily followed — and as she was, despite her sustained protests, now the elected Guildmaster, supplying officers to establish new branches and ensure the radical model that protected members and made sure profits went to makers, not middlemen or overlords, was her headache. Those she could trust to do the job, standing up to other guildsmen and lords as needed, were already badly overworked, and where to find more had been a sore puzzle. But noble scions would have the status and confidence, and if they owed their opportunity to kin who owed her they’d be keen to do well. It would mean bringing them to New Hope for training and to take the guild oath, but that was no problem and she felt in her bones that the idea would work. But none of that addressed this nonsense of her Papa trying to tell her that she should make what had always been his reflective address at the Midwinter feast ; that she was in effect the head of the family. She returned to her chair with a mulish look that raised eyebrows.

“Well and good, Mama, up to a point. You’re right about patronage, and I’ll speak to Vorinna, Tilaine, Merovec, Ortien, and Gavin. And gods know there’ll be no shortage of posts when the children are grown enough to need them. But New Hope is _not_ the senior branch and never will be, and I’m not having you or Papa or Anders deferring to me, at the feast or anywhere else. It’s absurd.”

“Is it, sweeting? It doesn’t seem so to us.”

“No, indeed. I realise it distresses you, my dear, but we would be foolish not to recognise your leadership.” Her father’s eyes twinkled. “We don’t sell ourselves short as you do, but we’re already following your lead. It surely wasn’t Anders or I who shaped the astonishing events of this year.”

“That was the gods. And the dragons and timeway, whatever it is.”

Anders shrugged. “Was it, Kel? You insist the gods and dragons were about their own business, and New Hope incidental, but that’s plainly not true of Lord Sakuyo, nor Lord Diamondflame. And I don’t believe New Hope or the Guild are anyone’s doing but yours.” He considered her with concern. “Little sister, you accept that you lead every being here, and plan their futures every day. Why is it so hard to think you lead us too?”

“Because it’s wrong.” Truth broke through. “Because you’re my surest anchors, father and oldest, kindest brother. I’ve learned to live with outranking all my friends, but their deference is a misery. And I’m bothered if the gods’ blessings are going to take my family away as well.”

Ilane opened her mouth but Piers, unusually, waved her to a silence that stretched for several minutes before he spoke.

“I cannot say I quite understand, my dear, but I do see the shape of your problem and its severity. And I would not willingly do anything to add to the burden you bear for us all. But I fear this is another of those ironies at which Lord Sakuyo would have his Blessed learn to laugh.”

Kel nodded. “Oh yes. Very many hot needles. But I’m still not speaking in your place at the feast, Papa. Not even for Lord Sakuyo. He likes proper respect for all his jesting, and so do the Yamanis. Who would all have fits at the idea.”

“Mmm.” Piers considered his bewildering, profoundly blessed daughter. “The Yamanis are very practical about plain facts. But I’m happy to set up your speech, my dear.”

“Un-huh. We can both talk to Vorinna and the others, but you do the announcing. And the reflection on the year.” She shuddered. “I’m sure I’ll be behind my fan long before you’re done, but if you think I’m doing _that_ , think again.”

It was Piers’s turn to show distress. “But, my dear, it makes no sense for me to be your mouthpiece. And how can I usurp your prerogatives here, of all places? Or take credit for your strength and vision?”

“Usurp _my_ prerogatives? What you want me to do is usurp yours.”

This time Ilane ignored her husband’s waving hand. “We brought her up too well, love. And she has a point about Yamani attitudes.” She turned to her stubbornly principled daughter. “Kel, sweeting, can we just be pragmatic? Where anything ceremonial is happening anywhere but here, rank will give your Papa and I precedence, and if you need him to speak at the feast then of course he will. But we can’t ignore the reality, which is that the only person I can think of who’d share your outrage in this is your grandmother.” Her voice became thoughtful. “And since you rearranged her head this summer, even she might pause.”

Kel stared indignantly. “That’s a low blow.”

“Even so, sweeting. Will you deny you protected all of us from her moaning? And with greater success than anyone else has ever managed? It’s all Piers can do to keep her polite in public and I don’t think my poor Papa had much better luck. But you gave her a dressing down and orders she obeyed.” Ilane smiled at the memory. “You’ve come of age, Kel, and how. All the things we hoped for you — a good husband, children, a secure home — but so much more as well. And among it a vision none of us can begin to match, with an authority immortals recognise and the gods are using. You know as well as we do that where those sorts of things are concerned we couldn’t overrule you if we wanted to, not that we ever would. It doesn’t change anything else, sweeting, but it’s true.”

Kel’s fulminations issued, to her own surprise, in an edged laugh, and after a tumbling second of thought she held up her hands.

“Doesn’t it, Mama? You might want to think that through some more. But you’re right that the gods are still watching. Or His Nibs is anyway.” Lord Sakuyo’s calligraphy had made the nickname irresistible to her and she believed it amused him, but hadn’t used it to anyone but Dom, Tobe, and Irnai before and saw both parents blink. “And I’ve no more idea what he might want this time than you.”

Her father took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you do, my dear, but that’s not really the point. Whatever it may be, you _will_ have a better idea of it than anyone else when it happens.” Kel wanted to gnash her teeth. “And while I know the dragons also do as they will, no-one else has a formal treaty with them. I know you think the term dragonlord absurd, and I grant it’s less than accurate, but I understand why even your own people use it, and why it’s spreading widely.” He steepled his fingers. “Parental respect is all well and good, and our noble degrees proper, but your authority as Protector and as a dragonlord comes entirely from yourself, my dear, and everyone defers to it, rightly. Even the King acknowledges it.”

Kel pounced. “He also acknowledges my oaths to him as Lady Knight and as Countess.” She rested her hands on her swollen belly. “These two will be taught that Mindelan is the senior branch, and its duke their kinlord, so you’d better get used to the idea. And Anders and Lachran.”

Her Papa’s mouth opened but her Mama’s hand waved as she smiled sweetly. “Whatever you say, sweeting.”

“Gah!” Perhaps fortunately, further protest was forestalled by Ebony squeaking news from the Eyrie that Kel’s guests for the evening, the Riversedge Council, were in sight, but the mulish look didn’t leave her eye as she stood. “We’re not done with this. And Mama, when you say you couldn’t overrule me, you’re flat wrong. You and Papa are the only people who could. As you always will be.”

It was a good exit line, and she made the most of the chance.

* * * * *

In the event it wasn’t as bad as Kel had feared. Restricting the Longnight meal to close family wasn’t saying much, as four of her siblings with spouses, Tillaine, and nearly twenty nieces and nephews were in residence, not to mention Dom’s family and several more distant in-laws possessed of intense curiosity about all things New Hope, as well as Heliana, who couldn’t in courtesy be excluded — but she couldn’t say any were less than well behaved. Demadria’s and Gavin’s youngest was still an infant, but her Mama was right : the children were already more at ease with immortals than most of the adults, regarding them as a thrilling adventure rather than a possible threat, yet already being trained by those same immortals to a profound respect for New Hope, and their cheerful obedience had induced a certain wary wonder in their parents. Even Lachran, released to attend by Lord Imrah on Kel’s promise to maintain his weapons training, was being scrupulous, and though advancing pregnancy had reduced Kel’s morning pattern dances to a minimal routine there was nothing to stop her superintending his brisk sparring with one of the duty guards, nor attaching him to the regular training sessions Uinse and Dom ran for everyone under arms.

She _did_ have to speak, despite her misgivings, but only at her Papa’s invitation after his own, embarrassing remarks. And in a strange way, having to hear them was actually quite helpful. When the King had rehearsed her deeds at her creation as a countess, his persistent exaggeration and calculated political gratitude had made it all an absurdity, but her Papa’s assessment was much more sober, informed by knowledge of her weaknesses and predilections as much as appreciation of her strengths and genuine achievements. And it wasn’t as if she could honestly disagree that in the last year she’d commanded the successful defence of New Hope, wielding dragonfire to do so ; invited the Stone Tree Nation to feast on and execute King Maggur, ending the Scanran war ; become a countess and a clanchief ; invited four gods to dinner ; married Dom and become pregnant (if not quite in that order) ; and signed a treaty with dragons as well as being elected a guildmaster. More importantly, though, he stayed away from the things she wanted to say herself, and heaving herself upright, burdened by an excellent meal as well as the ever enlarging twins, she found herself grinning at her siblings’ assorted children.

“Well, now Papa’s finished embarrassing me thoroughly I can add four things that bear on the future.” She held up a finger. “The first is news only to the children, but welcome, I hope. I’ve spoken to all your parents about the needs New Hope and the Guild will have over the next decade — and there will be plenty, believe me. The most urgent is Guild emissaries to oversee the foundation of new branches, and as children in general seem to get on with immortals more easily than adults who remember the Immortals War I’m urging all parents who become involved to take children with them whenever practicable. And as Inness, Merovec, Ortien, and Gavin will be among them, that means” — she surveyed her nephews and nieces with a stern eye — “that if you’re good and work hard you can anticipate travel and responsibilities with appropriate pay.”

She held up a hand as eyes widened and mouths opened.

“Young as you are, this matters. You don’t see it here because everyone is used to our basilisks, ogres, stormwings, and spidrens, as well as young dragons, but elsewhere a lot of people are still very frightened of them, and the example you can set, as children, will be important in bringing adults round.”

Kel could see most of them understood what she meant and let her gaze widen to the adults.

“Now, for all Papa’s praises I have no special insight into what the future holds — events this year with the timeway were a once-in-a-lifetime thing — but it doesn’t need a seer to know that the whole principle of the Guild, and of New Hope, is co-operation with immortals. And frankly, Tortall has neglected that ridiculously, for years. With spidrens and stormwings it’s understandable, but ignoring the capacities of ogres and basilisks for so long was foolish. Most of you have seen the coal mine Kuriaju has started up-valley, on Fanche’s and Saefas’s lands, and both ogres and basilisks have worked wonders sorting out the re-opened silver mines. Tirrsmont was as stupid and callous as he was greedy, neglecting both his miners’ safety and investment, but with immortal help more ore of better quality is coming up and safety has improved dramatically. With the farming ogres’ terracing the same is true of crop yields. And the roving basilisk teams have made a huge difference for a lot of people.”

She held up another finger.

“And that’s the second thing, because as you all know one effect of the killing devices is that we’re badly short of trained mages, and that will take a generation or more to rectify. But basilisks, like dragons, are _all_ mages, and they’re perfectly willing to help. It’s not just quarrying and building — a stone patina insulates and fireproofs, petrification can strengthen a bridge, create preserving jars, and stabilise a dangerous slope, while basilisk glass has made windows far more affordable. So spread that word and thinking, please, all of you. Build trust, look for opportunities, and point out to _everyone_ you deal with that having Guild immortals about isn’t a burden, or a trial, but a great blessing. Yes, it’ll be uphill at first, especially with nobles, but once people can see real benefits they change their tunes fast.”

A third finger joined the others.

“The next thing is more complicated, but just as important, and that’s Yaman. Crown Princess Shinkokami is already having a positive effect on trade generally, and because New Hope is the citadel of Sakuyo’s Blessed we’re in a special position.” Kel blew out a breath. “And then there’s that paragraph in my _Note on Spiritual Warfare_. What the High One is really about is anyone’s guess, but we already have Yamani pilgrims coming to see Drachifethe and those absurd pictures he wished on me, as well as the treaty-bound immortals, and numbers will increase — which meand we’re also going to need people who speak Yamani, don’t make faces at people enjoying raw fish, and know better than to serve them cheese. So those of you who’ve let your Yamani slip should put that right, please, and the rest of you, with all the children, could do a lot worse than to be learning it as well as undertaking some cultural study.”

She grinned at her sisters’ and in-laws’ looks, as did her parents and Anders, who _had_ kept up his Yamani in dealing with the merchants who used Mindelan and Frasrlund.

“It’s tricky at first, I know, but it’s actually a beautifully logical language once you’ve got the hang of it. And if you need incentives, consider these. First, I don’t know yet quite what numbers we’re likely to be dealing with, but more than enough to require a new, more direct route from Mindelan to here that will need wayhouses, as well as guards and healer services. We’ll have something amounting to a Yamani quarter here too. And second, while that paragraph has had a lot of people paying lip service to Lord Sakuyo, as well as some genuine piety shown in new shrines, I haven’t heard of many people truly taking seriously the idea of much closer links with the Isles. And thanks to Papa and Mama, we — Mindelan and allies — have a _considerable_ head-start. There will be a _lot_ of opportunities in this, but it does mean taking Yamani sensibilities seriously.”

One of the twins shifted, giving her a kick, and she took a sip of water while her stomach resettled itself.

“Sorry — they clearly think I’ve been going on too long, and they’re right, but there is one more thing, which is that whatever it looks like, New Hope is seriously underpopulated. You see the bustle here and it all looks prosperous, but the vast bulk of the fief, south and north of the Vassa, is all but desert land. The fledged dragons and stormwings have been mapping it, and the more the map gets filled in, the longer my list of needs grows. The most pressing is families to keep wayhouses on the Great North Road, but there are reported coal and other deposits that need mining, and land that can be farmed. And new settlements will need hedgewitches or healers, smiths, farriers, carters — you name it. Now, we will _not_ become a dumping ground for troublemakers or real malcontents — I’ll refuse permission to anyone I don’t think reasonably honest, kind, and competent — but with that caveat we need as many people as we can get, and I’ll be happy to back that up with land-grants where appropriate, or other recognition. So keep that in mind, please, whatever else you’re doing, and Vorinna, Tilaine, Merovec, Ortien, and Gavin, please speak or write to your birth-family heads about this. Dom’s doing the same for Masbolle and Queenscove, and I’ve written to Cavall, Hollyrose, Port Legann, Haryse, Tasride, Tameran, and some others. The last thing I want is resentment about poaching people who are needed, but every older fief has some restless — younger sons and daughters who won’t inherit, land that can’t be further subdivided, journeymen looking to start up on their own, whatever. And older fiefs, well established and set in their ways, often don’t have space for them. But New Hope does, and they’ll be welcome. Papa?”

She sat and her father rose again, raising his wineglass.

“I second everything Kel’s said. I do remember advising my elder daughters to keep up their Yamani” — his eyes twinkled — “without much success that I ever saw, but I dare say it will come back readily enough. And Kel’s other points are all well made — the children do have a natural advantage in dealing with immortals, as we’ve all seen, and the fact that all basilisks are mages in their own right is one that has been ignored for far too long. But her last point is most important in the short term. Mindelan certainly has a dozen families I can think of who will be delighted to have a chance of a land-grant here for the younger children, and if the same isn’t true of Nond, Hannalof, and haMinchi lands I’ll be very surprised. One word of advice to Merovec and Gavin, that if you encounter any, ah, immediate opposition, don’t hesitate to go to the top. Lord Ferghal, unsurprisingly, thinks very well of Kel, and though I’m not sure my Lord of Nond thinks _very_ well of anyone, his experiences here between Imbolc and the ides after Beltane left him as thoughtful as I’ve ever seen him. As well they might. His piety was engaged, too.”

Gavin looked thoughtful himself, and Merovec and Adie both nodded.

“As to Lord Sakuyo, I have to say that, much as she hates it and properly warns us that this year’s events were singular, I regard that as very much Kel’s province. I hope I have never been less than respectful of the gods, but it is Ilane and Kel who caught Lord Sakuyo’s attention, on the day the swords were saved, and Kel who has held it these many years. He calls her his _favourite daughter_ , a _gem_ and a _marvellous jester in her own right_ — words she won’t thank me for repeating, though the world knows them, and that I have pondered these last months. She tells me she believes both she and Crown Princess Shinkokami are jokes played on Tortall, and that in this, if nothing else, the Great Goddess wholly supports Lord Sakuyo — and while I can add nothing to her belief, I do urge on you all the recognition that both those High Ones, and more besides, have made it very clear that attitudes must change. So I will leave you for the coming year with this thought, that the one thing all those enemies of Tortall who have perished or fallen in the last year had in common — not only the traitors who died assaulting New Hope, and Genlith and Runnerspring, but also the late King Maggur and his crew — was contempt for women in general, and especially those entering public life. As some of you will remember, Kel’s desire to seek knighthood was not universally welcomed, even within the family. It may have been a part of the gods’ design, but how _very_ blind we all were. And I believe I have a few more granddaughters than I have grandsons — to date, anyway — so think of them, please, as we drink to all our history and our dead, and all our futures and our children.”

That Kel could do with good heart, mildly irritated as she was by her Papa’s reverence, and as the table rearranged itself, younger children departing for bed and those old enough to be allowed to stay self-consciously circulating, she found herself bracketed by Orie and Adie.

“What?”

“Daughters.”

“What about them?”

Adie answered first. “Kel, Haneta has about as much desire to enter knight training as Orie and I did.”

Orie nodded. “Fionula and Verena likewise. But they’re good girls, and smart with it. How do _they_ go forward if they won’t be warriors or commanders? I _do_ hear what you say about Yamani pilgrims, but I have to say innkeeping or suchlike wasn’t quite what I had in mind for them.”

Kel suppressed a grin. “Point, but, oh, Supervisor of the Pilgrims’ Way Resthouses, say, isn’t quite innkeeping.” Both her sisters’ eyes took on thoughtful looks. “And while domestic management has always been a task for a woman with skills, it has never brought much public recognition — but that won’t be true of Guild hosts.”

“Guild _hosts_?” Orie echoed Adie’s frown.

“Surely. You’ve seen how many beings are coming for Guild training and Numair’s seminars, and that will continue. New branches will also need to give a fair few dinners as they become established, and then more regular ones, and one thing most immortals are not very good at is hosting mixed gatherings. You should think about my Maids as well. I know some noble families affect to look down on trade, but we don’t. If someone has an aptitude for baking or sewing or weaving, whatever, a shop to prove themselves and if it works out a set of shops to manage is perfectly possible.”

“Huh. That’s a thought.” Adie took a breath. “Kel, I’ve said it before, or tried to, but I am sorry Orie, Demadria, and I were so unhelpful to you before. We gave you a lot of grief and you’ve been nothing but generous and helpful in return, when you could easily have told us to harvest what we planted. And how we failed to see how graceful you are I have no idea.”

“ _Graceful_?”

“Oh yes.” Orie was nodding vigorously. “At your wedding half the men were drooling envy of Dom, and not just because of his countship. Even Ortien is spellbound by your pattern dances, when he’s awake early enough to see them. And the way you deal with everyone here — every being, I mean — is just astonishing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flustered, whether it’s Quenuresh with some odd request or a misbehaving dragon. Or a pair of gods and two giant hounds, come to that.”

Kel stared. “Never flustered? Gods, Orie, you should see me afterwards — I take out the small change on Dom, poor dear.” A chain of thoughts ran through her mind and she flushed slightly, but these were her sisters. “And to speak true, so far as being aware of anything you call grace, well, that started only with Dom. Don’t you both feel it when …” She flushed more deeply and lowered her voice. “When you feel, um, I can’t think of a more delicate way of saying this, but _well swived_?”

“Kel!” Both her sisters giggled, and Adie pursed her lips. “In the, um, afterglow, you mean? I do feel pretty good for a while, but …”

“Well, if you were in weapons training, of any kind, you’d find that translated into what you’re calling grace — faster, more fluid movement and control.” Kel’s voice dropped further to an intimate murmur. “Alanna calls it a side-benefit for which she _really_ thanks the Goddess.”

“Really? _Fascinating_.” Orie was smiling. “And while you’re about it, Kel, Dom’s injured leg doesn’t …”

“Not unless we’re standing up.” Kel answered almost without thinking and immediately blushed again.

“Standing up?”

“Haven’t you ever? Mmm. Try it, that’s all I can say, except have somewhere to lie down handy.”

“The bed’s always there, Kel.”

“Depends where you are, Orie. There’s an awful lot of New Hope.” Her sisters’ eyes went wild with speculation. “And anyway, Dom’s leg is _much_ better than it was, thanks to Lord Mithros’s blessing. Not that it needs to take any strain at all.”

Adie’s eyes were wide. “You, um, prefer …”

“Quite often. So does Dom.”

“Oh. Merovec doesn’t, ah … well, I don’t know. Approve, maybe. He wants me, um …”

“Still?” Kel shook her head but kept her voice low. “Adie, if he’s that hidebound, just flip him over one night and keep going. And give him a _shunga_ manual with a promise to try anything that intrigues him.”

“ _Flip_ him … easier said than done, Kel.” It didn’t seem to have occurred to Adie that physical strength had practical uses beyond being able to move in full armour and endurance in the field. “But a _shunga_ manual … huh.”

Ilane had drifted up behind them, to lay a hand on Kel’s and Orie’s shoulders. “However do you know about _shunga_ manuals, Adie? They shocked even your father, and I never dared give you any.”

“You should have kept me away from Yuki and Shinko then, Mama.” Kel smiled up at her mother despite her embarrassment. “I knew about them long before I understood them. And if you have any stashed away it’s time to give them to these two to pass on to Merovec and Ortien.”

“Really? I thought we’d had this talk, but if Kel says so …”

Ilane commandeered her elder daughters, not that they needed much commandeering, and Kel was left to welcome a hovering Anders and Lachran for a different kind of family heart-to-heart about his training as a squire and what might benefit it.

* * * * *

Kel was increasingly convinced that Mandrinal, the shrewd and affable senior royal clerk the King had loaned her to help establish New Hope’s secretariat, secretly spent his nights manufacturing paperwork to oppress her. Clearing her desk, or even making visible progress, seemed to be impossible, and this morning the piles were once again far higher than she had left them. Unfortunately, not even she could blame Mandrinal for the stack of complaints about Dragon Apprentice Longtail skimming less than ten feet above a local wagon train hauling in firewood, whose mules and drivers had not appreciated the experience. And the pile of private correspondence presorted by Heliana, on which Ebony and Button were resting, said a courier had come in overnight : keeping the road open for wagon trains all winter was beyond even New Hope while the heavy snow lay, but it could be and was kept open for ordinary travellers, and the result was couriers bringing yet more blessed paperwork.

Nor did having her family _still_ largely resident help Kel to put in the office hours she knew she should. It was delightful and distracting, and filled her guest rooms with excitable nieces and nephews to whom Aunt Kel had always been an intriguing, much discussed absence and who was now proving as fascinating as they had imagined. Talking to them was quite entertaining when it wasn’t embarrassing or mystifying, but their appetites for diversion were as insatiable as those of Kel’s sisters for gossip, and her in-laws’ for political tidbits, and she had found herself very grateful that the heat and light from the great dragonsign on the fin kept the lawn, and even the green, both free of snow and dry enough for children — and younglings of all kinds — to run and play. The residual glow and the icelights everywhere also made play safe much later than winter evenings usually allowed. It might be noisy but it was a useful outlet for excess energy, and educational besides, not to mention healthy. Unfortunately, it didn’t work for their parents, and though it had been moving as well as interesting to reconnect with siblings and get to know spouses better, that had also eaten time the fief demanded.

Midwinter celebrations had also taken up more days than they might. How it came about that New Hope’s festivities now ended with a Countess’s Ball Kel wasn’t entirely sure, but Heliana and others had been positively eager to organise it and a surprising number of people from other parts of her fief willing to slog through snow to attend. And she had to admit that the sight of former convicts’ families — most quite newly arrived, very much in their best, and stiff with uncertainty — mingling with her fief’s emergent élite had been good to see ; the presence of resident and Guild-affiliated immortals had also lent a certain wonder to proceedings she’d enjoyed, particularly Kitten lighting the fires and Quenuresh’s illusion show. More seriously, with her parents present a good deal of useful diplomacy had occurred amid dancing and feasting, involving merchants from Bearsford and Riversedge, assorted Scanrans, and the many foreign mages and immortals who’d already come to study with the Guild and see what was true amid the tall tales that had spread. As they included a Carthaki red robe sent by Emperor Kaddar, a Copper Isles _kudarung_ , and a Gallan unicorn — both immortals needing Quenuresh or an older dragon to translate for them — some of it had become quite laborious, but at least one contract for the unicorn’s kin to clean two polluted wells in Carthak and another for some of Bearsford’s excellent smoked meats to go to expanding settlements in Scanra had been signed, so Kel wasn’t repining.

And then there was the minor consideration that being nearly a week overdue to deliver twins who were undoubtedly lively and to Kel seemed simply enormous made her thoroughly cranky and disinclined to do paperwork in the first place. She shifted her bulk to ease her back and scowled at the ornate letter she was reading, which somehow managed to mix an oily obsequiousness with impertinent demands.

“Mandrinal, do the Glassblowers’ Guild have a leg to stand on, legally?”

“Ah, that depends, Lady Kel. The Craftsbeings’ Guild has by royal fiat a monopoly on immortal production, but the Glassblowers have by custom and in some respects law a monopoly on glass. A ruling will be needed.”

Kel scowled some more, but this might matter a good deal. “Right.”

Mandrinal waggled a hand gently. “I’m not surprised the question’s come up, but I am that they’ve approached us directly to make what amounts to a demand. All else aside, they’re challenging a royal decree, but don’t seem even to have copied their letter to the Palace, which is … lax of them.”

Kel nodded. “I noticed that.” She drummed her fingers and saw Dom look sympathetic where he _was_ making visible progress with his own, more military paperwork, while Ebony and Button perked up attentively at her tone. “Reply to them asserting our rights by that decree, please, and point out that honouring agreements with immortals is of a different order than protecting anyone’s monopoly. You could add that we’re supplying a new market, not competing in their established ones, because the north has very little glass to begin with, thanks mostly to their prohibitive pricing, downright greed, and … regrettably narrow-minded inertia in recent decades.” Mandrinal grinned, making it much harder to dislike him, and so did Dom. “You can tell them we realise clarity is needed, and they can send a delegation whenever they like to talk about it. Copy the Palace, with the original. And meanwhile a second letter, to His Grace of Wellam requesting he ask a senior clerk to prepare a comprehensive brief on precedents, and respectfully soliciting his advice.”

“I shall be delighted to compose both, my Lady.” Mandrinal sounded sincere, and did have a line in dry irony Kel appreciated. “Might I suggest we ask His Grace to extend consideration to centaur and ogre smiths and the Metalworkers’ Guild, and to spidrens and the Weavers’? I realise it’s awkward with the Metalworkers but it’s as well to be beforehand.” His smile was at once predatory and austere. “And the awkwardness has a benefit — _they’re_ not going to want another confrontation with anyone just yet, let alone you, Lady Kel, and if they settle we’ll have a useful precedent.”

“Oh that’s excellent, Mandrinal.” Dom was grinning. “We might even be able to push them into working properly with the condemned.”

Dom had taken an understandably keen interest in the penalties Kel had had the King impose on the traitors convicted of aiding and colluding with Maggur, and their required quest for replacement arms and legs, hands and feet, lost to the killing devices they’d helped make, was being watched by many veterans. The King had converted a small royal farm in the Corus hinterland to house the project and confine the condemned, and visits by those veterans, standing on peglegs and sporting hooks or empty sleeves, were by all accounts producing some genuinely shamed application from some among the prisoners. But the Metalworkers’ Guild, in which a dozen of them had held senior rank, and whose leadership had undergone considerable and rapid turnover under very angry royal eyes, had not yet had the political sense to throw its weight behind the project, preferring to pretend its former members had vanished into thin air as if they and their treasons had never been. It was disappointing as well as foolish, and Kel didn’t need Dom’s remark and Ebony’s interested squeak to tell her Mandrinal’s sly suggestion _was_ a good one.

“Alright, yes — all of that, Mandrinal. And thank you — that’s useful thinking.” Kel quirked an eyebrow. “While you’re in the mood, any idea what I should do about Longtail? He’s not usually so irresponsible, but though I’m not unduly worried about the drivers, those mules have a point.”

Mandrinal was concealing a grin ; Dom didn’t bother.

“Only you, Kel love. But I don’t think Longtail’s the problem — he was quite apologetic when Kawit reprimanded him, according to Scamp. He was set on.”

“ _Set on?_ By … no, don’t tell me. Junior.”

“In one.”

“Little monster.” Kel huffed only half-amused exasperation. “Diamondflame told him off for dangerous flying so now he does it by proxy. Would you be delighted to compose a letter to his parents too, Mandrinal?” The bureaucrat shuffled, looking … horrified, actually, and Kel’s amusement suddenly bubbled. “Tell you what — on top of whatever punishment Kawit imposes as Dean, next time Lord Weiryn’s here I’m going to ask him to talk to the mule gods and have them pay Junior a visit.”

Dom laughed and Kel grinned back. “Maybe they’re too stubborn to show up, but _that_ I’d pay to see.” He still looked at her with wonder beyond lust in his eyes too often for Kel’s comfort, but he had — perforce — become much more at ease with her tendency to regard gods as one more command resource that ought to prove itself worth its feed. “Come to think of it, _are_ there mule gods? Wouldn’t it be horse and donkey gods?”

Kel frowned. “I’ve no idea. Ebony, do you know?”

The darking seemed to consider. “Older darking once saw stripy horse gods. Not know about mule gods.”

“ _Stripy_ horses? Goddess, I wonder what those are. Daine might know if you show her.” Kel brightened, straightening to ease her back. “Maybe the Horse Lords do the job for mules as well. Chavi West-Wind might oblige. Onua Chamtong says she’s the best of them with children.”

Mandrinal looked fascinated and Dom suppressed another laugh.

“Peachblossom could stand in.”

Kel shook her head gloomily. “Won’t work. He and Junior are old antagonists. It’d be like the crusty uncle saying ‘Don’t do that’. Junior wouldn’t take a blind bit of notice. What we need is the griffin version of Diamondflame.”

Dom’s laugh exploded. “No we don’t. Mithros! Wouldn’t that be something? Let’s find out about mule gods first.” He grinned. “If there aren’t any there should at least be a First Mule, from what Daine and Numair say.”

“That’s a thought. Or we could try petrified shackles, I suppose, and ground him for a week — even Junior shouldn’t be able to rust _those_.”

This gratifying line of thought was interrupted by the chime of a spellmirror next door and the murmuring voice of the duty mage. A moment later Varik appeared in the doorway.

“His Majesty asks to speak to you both, Lady Kel, Cap’n Dom.”

“Did he say why?” Kel was already hauling herself upright while Ebony rolled up her arm and Button leaped to Dom’s shoulder.

“Only that it was urgent but not an emergency.”

“Oh. Good.”

The spellmirrors were in an office of their own in case privacy were needed. Late in the autumn Numair had with help from Harailt and Kawit succeeded in extending the range of the mirrorspell, so Corus and the north were now in direct contact without needing mages powerful enough to firespeak over such distance, though not as yet Corus and Hamrkeng, Heian-Kyó, Carthak, or Rajmuat. It was of course very useful if also potentially a burden, though to be fair the King had so far been circumspect, neither intruding without real purpose nor presuming on his overlordship ; Thayet called more often, usually to talk enthusiastically about the Protector’s Maids, defence classes, and spreading icelights rather than anything more official, though plans for investments in the lower city had come up. The King looked relaxed but thoughtful, and had before him a large, elaborate scroll with seals Kel recognised as those of His Imperial Majesty.

“Keladry, Domitan.” He peered. “And Ebony, Button. You’re all well? And still not delivered, I see, Keladry.”

“We are, sire, thank you. And plainly not. Neal predicted I’d be late — he said the twins wouldn’t fancy exchanging warm comfort for a world full of snow, and said he wouldn’t blame them. So did Yuki.” She wished her friends were here, but it had been long past time they spent a Midwinter at Queenscove. “I feel less charitable about it myself.”

Those blue Conté eyes could twinkle disarmingly. “I imagine you do. And all’s well with New Hope?”

“More or less. We’re busy today with Junior daring Longtail to scare a week’s eating off a whole train of mules, and shaping up with the Glassblowers’ Guild in ways you’ll hear about before too long, if you haven’t already.”

Jonathan’s grin faded. “The Glassblowers? Oh, because of immortal glass, I suppose? They wrote to you directly?”

“They did. Mandrinal’s composing a reply that _will_ be copied to the Palace, and writing to Duke Turomot, so we’re well enough.” The King’s grin returned, though his eyes promised words for the Glassblowers about royal protocol. “And you and Her Majesty?”

“All the better for seeing you, Kel.” Thayet slipped onto the seat beside her husband. “My commiserations on your extended wait — Lianne was ten days overdue and I can still remember how grumpy it made me. Jon can too, I expect.” She gave Dom a warm smile. “We’re sorry to interrupt your day but as you can see we’ve had a most imperial scroll, and its contents are somewhat unexpected.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Are your parents about? We were hoping to talk to them as well.”

“They’ve ridden over to Haven, but won’t be long, I shouldn’t think. It’s clear and bright but very cold.”

“Mmm. Well, tell them as soon as possible, please, and ask Piers to use the mirror.” Jonathan  sat back. “You know a full state visit to Yaman is on the cards, but I’d been thinking about next year. The Emperor, however, invites us to be present at the dedication in, um,  Edo of a new temple to Lord Sakuyo. On April 1st.”

“They’ve finished it already? That’s fast work.”

“Yes, apparently. Or they will. His Imperial Majesty said in a covering note you’d know about it.”

Kel nodded. “So do you, sire. It’s the one Geraint- _sensei_ was called to design, and basilisks and ogres went to help. A Guild contract, in fact.”

“Ah. Yes, vaguely. And how did Edo know about Geraint- _sensei_?”

“Because Lord Sakuyo liked what he did here and told them.” She frowned. “I’m not sure how, exactly, but it had them writing an imploring letter in double-quick time.”

“ _Lord Sakuyo_ commissioned … caused to be commissioned … a Tortallan architect for his new temple?”

The King looked genuinely surprised and Kel shook her head.

“Yes, sire. I did tell you.”

His expression was complex, as was Thayet’s. “I’m sure you did, Keladry. I expect I lost track amid all the other wonders you explained.” Royal fingers drummed. “In that case, I take it you think I should accept the Emperor’s invitation to up sticks at very little notice and sail for Yaman with Thayet, Roald, Shinkokami, Sir Nealan and Lady Yukimi, you two, and your parents?”

Kel’s mind whirled and she sat forward as best she could, seeing her seriousness register with both royals and Dom’s look of alarm. “If His Imperial Majesty has extended a formal invitation to all of us by name, then absolutely, yes — no question at all, and Papa will tell you the same. All else aside, if he’s invited an official Tortallan and mixed-marriage party to the dedication, he’s putting face on the line and requesting support by the treaty embodied in Roald’s and Cricket’s union. And if Lord Sakuyo’s new temple is being dedicated on his day, I’d think the odds _he_ won’t show up are very long indeed. You should no more refuse this than you would a formal liege request.”

“Easy, Keladry.” Jonathan’s smile didn’t lack humour. “I’d more or less come to that conclusion, on the political side at least. It was Lord Sakuyo I wanted your advice about, mostly.”

“Huh.” Kel thought. “I’m very cautious about trying to guess that sort of thing, sire.”

“That’ll be a change.” Jonathan and Thayet both grinned, and Kel scowled.

“Tchaa. He is, as Cricket says, a most wonderful god, and entirely a trickster. Who knows what he might have up his sleeves?” Kel’s face scrunched as she concentrated. “But there is this, maybe. Cricket might know better, but as I understand it Lord Sakuyo’s repeated blessings of New Hope have impressed most people into agreeing the Tortallan treaty was right. The treaty with the Council of Ten about raiding we sponsored must have helped too. But as we’re _gaijin_ , foreigners with strange looks and habits, not all, I’m sure, and His Imperial Majesty may have some nobles or _kamunushi_ , priests, causing trouble. And …” They all waited out her silence. “Prince Eitaro became one of Sakuyo’s Blessed here, of course, but the package of duplicate paintings was addressed to ‘my son’, so His Imperial Majesty got some blessing too. Still, the imbalance may be a problem, and I rather suspect some Sakuyan laughter in Yaman is even more overdue than I am.” Shrewd hazel eyes met the King’s. “And should His Imperial Majesty himself become one of Sakuyo’s Blessed amid such a crowd as this dedication will attract, sire, it would give him the kind of boost that dining with Lord Mithros gave you. It might matter a great deal that we’re all there.”

To Kel’s surprise it was Thayet who sat forward. “Right you are, Kel — we hear you. But is it realistic for _you_ to travel so soon? With six-week-old twins you’ll certainly need support.”

Dom was nodding forcefully. “Just so, Your Majesty. Kel, we can’t go tearing off with them that soon.”

“Why not? Assuming they’re alright, and I’m alright, we just pack them too, don’t we? My Mama did when we were small.”

“You were four, not newborn.”

“So they’ll be precocious. Sounds right.”

Dom looked mulish but Thayet smiled.

“What I was going to say, Kel, was that if you’re willing, you’ll certainly need a wetnurse and a caremaid for them. Shinko will need staff as well for Faran, and Yuki for Ryokel.”

The new Prince was only six months old. “It’s a kind thought, Thayet. A caremaid, maybe. But I’ll be nursing them myself.”

“With diplomatic assignments?” The Queen sounded dubious. “It’ll be a difficult burden to manage.”

“Not in Yaman. Noble mothers are expected to nurse and do whatever else they ought to be doing, so there are feeding rooms available in the palace, and in temples.”

“Really? Shinko said something about that but it sounded too good to be true.”

“No, it’s standard there. And Yuki hasn’t fully weaned Ryokel yet, so it won’t just be Cricket and me. If we make sure His Imperial Majesty knows the three of us are nursing he’ll take it in his stride, and note how we all behaved very properly in answering his summons despite the inconvenience.”

Thayet laughed, though the King and Dom were slightly cross-eyed.

“Alright, Kel, if you say so. And please do let me provide the staff you’ll need — unless you already have people in mind?” Kel didn’t and said so. “Fine. Now, there’s two other things. First, it should be a five- or six-day voyage. Is leaving Port Caynn in mid-month — for the ides of March, say — good enough? We do have commitments here.”

“Mmm. Make it a week earlier, if you can — by the nones. Edo’s three days’ ride at least from Heian-Kyó, and His Imperial Majesty will want to welcome you properly in the capital.”

Jonathan smiled sharply. “And you, Keladry, I’d think.”

Kel squirmed slightly. “Maybe. But the week before Sakuyo’s day is full of people planning tricks. There’s a danger of being tricked oneself, or being made a pawn in someone’s jest — but His Imperial Majesty may want or need us as … I don’t know, castles in some trick of his own.”

“Huh.” Both royals looked thoughtful, but it was again Thayet who spoke. “Should _we_ be looking to play tricks?”

“Oh yes.” Kel smiled, ignoring the King’s alarmed look. “But the limits will take some pondering. Ask Papa. And Cricket. But _don’t_ listen to George — the Crooked God’s sense of humour is as thin as the Hag’s. Lord Sakuyo’s is … older, I think. More patient and refined, certainly.”

Jonathan’s eyes were still crossed but Thayet smiled. “Alright, Kel — that made sense, I think. While you were speaking, at least. And we can sail by the nones of March if we hustle. Will you and your parents do the same, from Mindelan? Good. Before we come to the second thing, who else should we take, if anyone?”

Kel pondered. “His Imperial Majesty didn’t mention Daine or Numair? Or Duke Gareth? Alanna?”

“No, none of them.”

“Mmm. He’ll know you need to leave competent cover behind. Still, he’ll know Alanna’s still in Rajmuat, but if she’s willing and you don’t think Duke Gareth will need her, it might be an idea. Her legend reached Yaman long ago.”

“And yours more recently, Keladry.” Jonathan was serious. “Alanna’s temper is on a short leash at the best of times, and she doesn’t like tricks at all.”

“Oh piffle.” Kel snorted. “She doesn’t like Kyprioth because of what he did to Aly, but she swallowed real hostility in Carthak when she had to, if Daine and Numair have it right. And she has a better sense of divine humour than you do, sire, if you’ll forgive me saying so.”

The King scowled but Thayet laughed. “Point, Kel. A definite point, and you know it, love. What else, Kel?”

Kel shrugged. “Yuki will need to show Neal off to her cousins, and his fabled knight-mistress could help there. Shinko too, with Roald, in some measure — you should let them borrow you as props, and that might be easier with Alanna around as your Champion to deputise. And my parents will have things they ought to do. What _you_ should do if you don’t want to be swamped meeting powerful bureaucrats for a lot of pointless bowing is to develop your own agenda — a visit to the Temple District in Heian-Kyó and its Mithran shrine, say. I’ll be visiting the Black God’s shrine, and Lord Sakuyo’s First Temple. The swords of law and duty that Mama saved aren’t far outside the city, either — talk to her about that.” Jonathan was scribbling notes, to Kel’s amusement and, she saw, Dom’s. “If Queen Dovasary’s already sent an ambassador, there’d be that too.” She hesitated. “Did His Imperial Majesty say anything about immortals?”

Thayet half-smiled, then frowned. “You always give him his full dignities, Kel. Is he never informal? Shinko confused me, rather, when I asked.”

“See what he does, and wait to be invited to any relaxation of protocol.” Kel was definite. “Formality and face matter five times more in Yaman. They’re perfectly aware of the gap between form and substance but much less prone to excuses and indulgence. And to start with, the fullest fig all round. But this is Mama’s and Papa’s business.”

“And we’ll be speaking to them as soon as they call us, Keladry.” Jonathan’s smile was tight. “Though these days I wouldn’t be surprised if they referred us back to you.” He waved away her indignant look. “I’m not just teasing. The second thing is that in your case, specifically, His Imperial Majesty says you can — and we wondered if that meant _should_ — bring, I quote, ‘such companions as she may wish’. Does that mean immortals?”

Kel sat back, contemplating her mountainous belly. “Probably. But they’ve got their treaty with the Wangetsushima spidrens, and New Hope basilisks and ogres are there, so there’s no real reason for more of them. Has Shinko received any guidance on what her uncle means?”

Thayet shook her head. “She says not, and there’s barely time to ask unless we use magefire.”

Kel shook her head. “Don’t bother. If he’s said nothing to Cricket it’s dragons. And that’s complicated, because the apprentices can’t leave the fief without the permission of the Dragonmeet.”

The King was frowning. “Why should His Imperial Majesty want dragons especially?”

“I’ll bet it’s Prince Eitaro, again. Hemet Diamondflame as well as Lord Weiryn and the Green Lady, _and_ became one of Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed, _and_ saw Drachifethe, and even with Takemahou- _sensei_ and Lord Kiyomori to back him up there’ll have been people who had a fit of eye-rolling at all or any of _that_ news. They might genuinely disbelieve him, or think it must have been some _gaijin_ trick — it all sounds so improbable when no dragon’s been seen in the Islands in the Human Era. And falling foul of the Emperor is colloquially known as being burned by the dragon.”

“Is it now?” Kel could almost hear the King thinking. “Thank you, that helps. Two questions, then — are you willing to seek permission from the Dragonmeet? And if so, on behalf of which dragons?”

“Now _there’s_ a puzzle.” Kel linked hands over belly and pondered. “What’s really wanted is probably Diamondflame dropping in, but I doubt any adult dragon would be willing to participate in mortal politics like that without a pressing reason. Kawit would be a possibility, and might enjoy Yaman, if she thinks Denon can keep the older apprentices in line.” Numair had suggested the blond mage as Kawit’s deputy, and he seemed up to the job. “Kitten has a claim as Journeydragon, and _wouldn’t_ need the permission of the Dragonmeet. Her size and age might be the right kind of joke, too … mmm … I’ll have to think about it, sire, but I wonder if a small Guild delegation that brought along some younglings for the experience might be the thing — St’aara and Kuriaju, say, with Kitten, Amiir’aan, one of the ogre lads, maybe Amourta, if Cloestra’s willing.”

“Numbers rather than bulk?” Jonathan was smiling.

“Sort of, but Cloestra’s as Yamani as any stormwing I know gets, and it would be a reminder it’s the young who matter in this. I’ll talk to them.”

“Please do, Keladry, as soon as may be.” Jonathan became brisk. “In any case, please send us a briefing on Lord Sakuyo, Geraint, and this temple, with the agenda you were suggesting. And your own as well, as one of Sakuyo’s Blessed, a _sensei_ of the _naginata_ , and as Protector, I suppose, if that’s relevant. We’ll be talking again before March, often, I imagine, but until then …”

He and Thayet raised hands in farewell and the spellmirror blanked, leaving Kel half-indignant and Dom half-amused.

“Looks like we’re bound for the Islands sooner than we’d thought, love. At least you get to leave the paperwork behind for a bit.”

Kel tried to glare but her heart wasn’t in it — she was too excited by intertwined thoughts of seeing Yaman again, showing it to Dom, and, she was deadly sure, somehow serving Lord Sakuyo. There was another odd sensation as well. “Well, there’s that, I suppose. But just now I think you should send for the midwife. I believe my waters are breaking.”


	3. Yaman

Two : Yaman

_Heian-Kyó, 21–22 March_

Kel had wondered if the ancient imperial capital would seem less impressive to adult senses than it had to a child’s, but it was every bit as striking as she remembered and Tortallans seeing it for the first time were gratifyingly astonished. Tobe was speechless, and even Neal, who had been teasing Yuki by doing his best to seem unimpressed, was heard to whistle softly. Built in a perfect, symmetrical grid in a wide valley surrounded by peaks, where three swift rivers joined to settle into a broad, navigable waterway, Heian-Kyó was dominated by the enormous Palace Compound at the northern end of the great central thoroughfare, the clustering ministries of the Emperor’s Right and Left Hands that flanked it, and the extensive Temple District on the west side ; to the south a thriving mercantile city extended east to the major confluence, and busy wharves lined the river banks. In a very Yamani way the architecture was, while always functional, uniform, the houses of particular heights, and palace, pagoda temples, and warehouses showing the same steeply raked tile rooves that gleamed dark reds and greens in the spring sunshine. And though the flowering trees were only just beginning to think of blossoming, their glory several weeks away, the groves around the city and the crowns of those in the parks deepened the sense of a very different order than Tortall’s.

Thanks to a cunning system of gated side-channels that Kel had quite forgotten, but set her to thinking furiously about the Vassa, the River Yodo was navigable from the major confluence to the sea, more than twenty miles away. Prince Eitaro had met them at the port with all due ceremony — hours of it — but also a personal warmth for Tortallans with whom he was by now well acquainted, expressed to Kel and her parents in a surprisingly public use of imperial-to-friend that gave them no choice but to use its reciprocal. With massed baggage despatched by cart, they had transferred with Jonathan’s and Thayet’s honour guard to an enormous river-barge that Alanna, as sea-sick as any mortal could be, had eyed with pale loathing, but it had proven a kind enough ride that even she had mostly recovered by the time Heian-Kyó came in sight. All the other first-time visitors, including the royals, Neal, and immortals with the Guild party — officially a delegation to confirm the satisfactory completion of the temple contract — had been fascinated by the flooded rice-fields on either side, worked by wide-hatted men and women, the different vegetation of the islands, and the high-arched bridges under which the barge and its escorts were carefully manoeuvred. The gated channels had allowed them to bypass two short sets of rapids and rise with the land, leaving Kel and her parents, with Yuki and Shinko, to manage a variety of rather charged conversations with Prince Eitaro and senior members of his retinue.

Matters were, to say the least, tenser than even her Papa had quite understood. There _had_ been a certain amount of scepticism, not to say outright disbelief, about events reported from New Hope, and as that implicitly called Prince Eitaro, as well as Takemahou- _sensei_ and Lord Kiyomuri, either fools or knaves the lines dividing understandable surprise, problematic insult, and incipient treason were distinctly thin. But beyond that a perennial problem of Yamani politics had twined about the matter like bindweed, as the Prince had admitted.

“It would all be a typhoon in a teapot, Keladry- _sensei_ , were it not for Lord Fujiwara.” He had visibly scowled as he spoke the name, for a Yamani the equivalent of many blunt epithets. “His ambitions and his marriage-ties with my cousins on both sides have always made him a dangerous man to oppose, even for His Imperial Majesty, and since he learned you had all been invited he has chosen — twice, in public — to express his disinclination to believe in what he has not himself seen. Last time, at a secondary feast for the Emperor’s birthday, a young  _kamunushi_ of Lord Sakuyo dared ask if he therefore doubted the existence of the gods. Lord Fujiwara was by all accounts less than amused, and the poor man was found strangled a few nights later.”

All the listening Tortallans had winced. The killing of any priest was a matter of serious concern, and they all knew the Fujiwaras were potentially a very real threat to Imperial power. For many generations the powerful and usually shrewd lords of the great western clan had aspired not to take the throne but to be the power behind it, and it was only in the last two that the Nakuji emperors had pushed back with any success. His Imperial Majesty’s father had nearly precipitated a civil war by marrying to suit himself, declining the bride Fujiwaras favoured, and subsequently spent much of his long reign chipping at the clan’s entrenched influence ; his elder son had extended the policy and, like Prince Eitaro, without the influence of a Fujiwara mother to sway him had also chosen to avoid a Fujiwara mother-in-law. The present Lord Fujiwara’s son still held a Ministry of the lesser, Right Hand, but the clan was now excluded from those of the dominant Left and from the Governorships of all but their own province and its immediate neighbour, and were apparently finding the restrictions ever more irksome.

“Nothing could be proved, of course, and we cannot risk making a martyr of him. He is looking to embarrass us somehow, we think, and so to discredit the treaties with both spidrens and Tortall.”

Kel had nodded but new priorities had been crystallising in her mind. “May I ask what he believes about immortals, my Prince? Might he offer harm to any under my protection?”

To her dismay he had only shrugged.

“They are under His Imperial Majesty’s protection also, Keladry- _sensei_ , as are the basilisks and ogres in Edo, so I would like to say no, of course not. But Michizane noh Fujiwara is not to be trusted in anything, and has said that where one dragon was an illusion, none can say others were not. He has also strongly criticised the _kamunushi_ at Edo for allowing — forgive me — _gaijin_ and beasts to design their new temple. And he has openly doubted that those astonishing paintings are by Lord Sakuyo. It is a poor hospitality, I know, but I fear you and the Guild delegation must be on guard.” He had brightened. “But you will have samurai, of course, and newly recruited spidrens from Wangetsushima. Michizane disapproves of them too, needless to say, but that does not make them any less formidable.”

Kel imagined not, inwardly shuddering even though it had been her idea, but remained extremely disturbed and had had a long conversation with the adults in the Guild delegation — St’aara and Var’istaan, Kuriaju, and a spotlessly clean Cloestra — and with Tobe and other younglings — Kitten, Ventriaju, Amiir’aan, and Amourta. She half-regretted that Irnai had chosen not to come, deciding she’d had enough travelling for a while, but was also grateful that she at least was not in harm’s way ; and altogether regretted that Jump and the sparrows had also declined, Jump feeling he should stay with Peachblossom and the sparrows thinking an ocean voyage altogether unnatural.

“We don’t want any trouble, of course, and hope there’ll be none, but there’s a more serious threat than anyone realised.” Her account of Yamani politics and the threat of the Fujiwara clan had been stripped down for clarity but was supplemented by her parents, Shinko and Yuki, and even once or twice by an intrigued Prince Eitaro, listening with Jonathan, Thayet, Alanna, Dom, and Neal. Then Kel had shrugged eloquently, steel coming into her voice. “But for all these complicated mortal politics, the rule is simple. So long as it’s just words you should all smile politely, and younglings, refer anyone who pushes it to the nearest adult, of any kind. But if there’s a physical threat — a sword drawn or an arrow nocked, or a mage summoning power — then your first and only job is to protect yourselves and your fellows, and you do whatever it takes. You all have full diplomatic status, and I trust every one of your judgements, so if the threat is real and unavoidable, you go right ahead.”

No-one was happy at the prospect but the adults had nodded, taking their own young aside for council and reassurance, while Kel herself tried to do as much for Tobe and Kitten. When Prince Eitaro had hesitantly enquired if young immortals were truly as able as their elders to kill Kel had nodded sharply.

“Be sure of it, my Prince. Lady Skysong could not produce as much dragonfire as Lord Diamondflame, nor for as long, but it takes very little to consume a man. Ventriaju helped kill a giant with his sling, a petrified chest is quite as fatal as a petrified body, and Amourta’s wings are no blunter for being small. I don’t want any of them taking life — they are far younger in terms of their kinds even than I am in mortal ones — but they are quite capable and I meant every word.”

The Prince had frowned but nodded sadly. “I understand, Keladry- _sensei_. Yet mortal deaths at immortal hands would be more than unfortunate.”

“Believe me, my Prince, not so unfortunate as any immortal deaths or injuries at treacherous mortal ones. But if you’ll excuse me, I think the twins are waking.”

Kel’s and Dom’s son and daughter had not yet had formal namedays — those awaited Samradh at New Hope, amid excited bets about who might attend — but they had agreed the boy would be Merric and the girl Lalasa, and they had already brought their parents more joy and broken nights than could readily be measured. Their delivery, amid a strong sense of the Green Lady’s reassuring presence, has been in the midwife’s view astonishingly easy, though Kel had had some choice words about that characterisation of the process ; and nursing them, if sometimes inconvenient and requiring averted gazes, had proven not only a heart-deep satisfaction and pleasure but a transcendent solace for the burden of killing she still felt. Retiring from the Prince’s presence to the feeding-room provided even on the barge, Kel had lost herself in the satisfaction of giving suck and the deftness with which she had learned to cradle one at each breast, swapping them over when they fussed, until she had been recalled by a troubled enquiry from Kitten. The dragonet usually had a reptile’s fascination with nursing as well as sharing Kel’s pleasure in the nurture of the young, but the gravity of Kel’s earlier warnings and advice had perturbed her.

_Harming mortals or the People was the thing grandsire spoke most strictly about when he taught me the fire spell._

“I know, Kit, but he taught you mostly because he knew you might need it — really need it — one day. And you know he fought with us during the Immortals War, burning that invasion fleet.”

Kitten swished her tail. _I suppose so. But the idea of burning someone does not seem right._

“That’s because it isn’t, but even so it’s better than _you_ being hurt, just as using your grandsire’s gift was better than having Maggur take New Hope. The mortal realms are muddled, and sometimes we have to choose the lesser wrong. Have you talked to Var’istaan? He petrified a giant so he’ll understand what you’re feeling.”

The dragonet gave a melancholy chirp. _That is a good idea, and the basilisks are always helpful. I will do so._ She lacked her usual bounce going out, and Dom, coming the other way, looked after her, then at Kel with an enquiring look.

“Is she worried about this Fujiwara fellow?”

“Not him so much as having to use fire against anyone.”

“Ah. Well, we all have to face what defending ourselves can mean sooner or later.” He sighed. “I’d hoped we were done with that sort of thing for a bit, though. And she’s very young for it.”

“Older than I was.” Kel had first killed men when she was twelve, and Kitten was now fifteen. Dom grimaced an apology and she smiled at him. “But she isn’t training to be a knight, and she _is_ young. I don’t think it’s just killing, though, Dom — it’s using dragonfire to kill. Diamondflame seems to have been pretty inhibiting when he taught her the spell. Sensibly enough.”

They had both seen what dragonfire did to flesh and bone, and he nodded, eyes dark.

“Gods, yes. Do you really think someone will try violence, love? Wouldn’t it force the emperor to act against them?”

Kel shrugged. “I’d think so. But that’s why I was worried about the immortals. I thought making it mostly younglings would be a way to satisfy curiosity and dispel doubts without the kind of reactions Quenuresh or Kawit tend to produce, but I realise too late it might also make people underestimate the threat. The Yamanis haven’t had much experience of immortals except spidrens and a pair of griffins in the mountains above the Palace, and the Fujiwaras have been being pushed into a corner for a long time.” She waggled a hand. “Even so, open violence seems unlikely. But … I don’t know, some attempt at humiliation dressed up as a Sakuyan trick could be a strong public slap at His Imperial Majesty.”

“Well, we’ll have to be careful, love. Are Merric and Lalasa done stuffing themselves? I came to say the city’s coming into sight.”

“I think so.”

Both babes were still going through the motions but no more, and made only token protests when Dom called the chief caremaid, Annila, to take them back. Kel refastened her tunic, thinking Thayet had been wise to insist on a nursery staff ; night feeds meant she wasn’t getting more than three or four hours sleep at a stretch, but with the Guild delegation to mind and now the distracting prospect of Fujiwara plots it was a blessing not to have to worry about their other ends, nor the paraphernalia required. Just how much room babies seemed to take up was a mystery, but a royal nursery commanded its own space. Stretching and feeling a different pleasure in muscles swiftly returning to proper fitness she hesitated, following a thought, and checking that Annila was out of earshot spoke to the broad piping on her collar.

“Ebony, would you please summarise what we’ve just learned, and my talk with Kit, and make sure Lord Diamondflame or Lord Rainbow are told as soon as may be? _Not_ just a watchdragon. And ask them, if I do my best with the mortal end, will they keep an eye on the other one?”

“Yes. Not fun?”

“Fun _and_ not fun, I think. Lord Sakuyo’s a lot nicer than Kyprioth, but still.”

“Dragons right. Gods annoying.”

“Often enough.” Dom was giving her that look again. “What?”

“Just trying to keep up, love. What are you thinking?”

“That I’m glad we could indulge the darkings’ love of secrecy by keeping their presence quiet.” Dom had Button, and Var’istaan Shale, and while Kel was sure Jonathan and Thayet suspected it nothing was even remotely official. “And that Lord Sakuyo’s on a roll. I don’t distrust him, but he _is_ a god and Kit’s in my care. So — a heads-up disguised as courteous reporting.”

“Sneaky and honest together. That’s my Kel.” Dom’s voice was as approving as Ebony’s interested squeak, and Kel shook her head, wondering at men and darkings as she followed Dom out to the deck.

* * * * *

As the great barge slowly docked, Prince Eitaro and several of his retinue were politely pointing things out to visitors, including immortals, while Cloestra, perched with Amourta on the rail, was commenting in Yamani on changes since she’d last seen the place five or six centuries before, so an amused Kel could stand with Dom and Tobe to watch the vista unfold. And it wasn’t just to the eyes — the smells brought a riot of memories, and she inhaled deeply.

“That sharpness under the city smells and the river is pickle markets and warehousing — vinegar, brine, fermented things they use, with sweet fruits and drying fish slivers.”

“The fish I’d identified, but not the rest.”

Dom’s voice was resigned and Kel grinned. “No avoiding raw fish here, fresh or dried.”

In the shadow of the long stretch of wharves and warehouses at the south end of the city only the Palace and temple rooves had remained visible over rooftops, but the great central road, Suzaku-oji, led to its own imperial river-gate, the Rajomon, with a wide space on either side through which a vista of the city again appeared, and Dom and Tobe both whistled.

“Mithros! That road must be nearly three hundred feet wide.”

One of Prince Eitaro’s retinue with good Tortallan was near them, and nodded politely.

“Just so, Blessed Lord. Suzaku-oji is 28 _jo_ from side to side, and one _jo_ is a little less than ten of your feet.”

“Thank you.” Dom’s voice dropped to a murmur for Kel alone. “Wide loads?”

She swallowed a laugh. “No, just aesthetics and politics. If it were narrower the view would be less beautiful and less intimidating. And everything’s symmetrical — there are spiritual principles underlying the design I never did understand, though Papa says he grasped them once, for a moment or two.”

“Huh. Do you think the King’s having visions of widening Palace Way?”

“Let’s hope not. He’d have to do a lot of demolishing.”

Further conversation died as they all contemplated the honour guard emerging to line the wharf — two score imperial samurai in ceremonial armour, and a dozen spidrens wearing helmets and scalemail flanchards, with wicked steel blades — glaive blades, Kel thought, rather than swords — strapped to their front four legs so they projected up, surrounding every spidren with a deadly steel crown.

“Oh … my.” Dom’s voice was even lower. “Remind you of anything?”

Kel stilled a grimace, settling her Yamani mask in place. “I know, love. I realised soon after I had the idea they’d look like killing devices, but also that Lord Sakuyo would be amused by it.”

“He would?”

“So long as they’re fighting for whomever he favours, I’m afraid. File under divine irony.”

More theology would have to wait, despite the look on Dom’s face, as mooring ropes had been secured and a wide gangplank run out. Protocol being very much in order, Kel, Dom, and Tobe were behind the royals, Alanna as King’s Champion, and her ducal parents, with Neal and Yuki behind them, but as both kinds of samurai formed a flanking guard the senior spidren, with a glance at the samurai officer for permission, came forward and offered Kel one of those strange spidren bows before speaking in a Yamani mode Kel recognised with some surprise as samurai to senior noble.

“You are the one they call the Protector of the Small, my Lady, with whom Quenuresh signed the first treaty?”

Kel nodded. “I am. Forgive my ignorance, sir, but how should I most properly address you?”

The spidren hissed. “No forgiveness is needed, Protector. Quite the opposite. I am Kravimal, and I am bound by my elders and kin to offer you the deep thanks of all spidrens of Wangetsushima. This service to the Emperor buys all of us peace, and our young the expectation of life to enjoy it in. Your name is power among us.” He bowed again, before turning to the immortals in line behind Kel and using adult to adult. “Greetings, brethren and sistren. His Imperial Majesty charges me to say that if you have any needs of your kind that are not being met, ask me or any of my troop. And when time comports, if you will, the spidrens of Wangetsushima have a question for the Craftsbeings’ Guild of New Hope.”

Kel managed to stop blinking and return a grave nod, wondering what that question might be.

“Thank you, Kravimal, and please convey my respects to your elders and kin. Whatever serves order and peace serves us all.”

The samurai spidren’s gaze was sharp. “It is for the chance to believe it so that we thank you, Protector, and I am honoured as well as ordered to know you. But I cannot dally now.”

“Of course. Please carry on.”

Ahead of them Prince Eitaro was joining the royals in the first of a string of _zagyoshiki_ state carriages, and as Kel, Dom, and Tobe, with Neal and Yuki, took places in the third she saw that the last looked to have been adapted and strengthened. Even so, with basilisks and ogres aboard it sat low on its springs, and the beautifully matched horses huffed as they got it rolling. Suzaku-oji was lined with crowds, respectfully silent in the Yamani way but densely packed and stretching away down every cross-street, clearly curious to see the _gaijin_ royals to whom the Emperor was now related by blood. Though she was facing forwards a murmuring swell from behind told her they must also be wide-eyed at the Guild delegation, and she was all too aware of the intense stares that came her own way, wondering — not for the first time — what unholy compound Yamanis had made of stories they’d heard about her and New Hope. A Blessed _gaijin_ _sensei_ of the _naginata_ would be fodder for wild gossip, however she wished it otherwise, and Lord Sakuyo’s paintings and paragraph would _not_ have helped — but she didn’t know how widely those might have been seen by ordinary folk, nor what any _kamunushi_ had been saying. But doubtless she’d find out soon enough, and Dom had become quite tense beside her. She slid a hand into his.

“Worried about the language?”

He shrugged slightly. “Not so much, love. You’ve been a ruthless teacher, and I’ll just make sure I’m standing beside Neal so my accent sounds better than it is.”

“Oy!”

Neal’s protest made Yuki roll her eyes, and Kel grinned.

“What, then? The politics?””

“Sort of. I know silence is thought proper here, but this crowd feels odd to me, over and above face-paint and gawping. Something’s ringing my old sergeant’s alarm bells.”

“Huh.” Kel considered. Dom had been a very good sergeant. “All the commoners pushed back? Or symmetry? The front rows are bureaucrats and priests with their wives — the colours tell you which ministry or god, and belt-knots show rank. There were richer merchants back by the gate, but they thinned out fast — the city’s dominated by civil and divine governance and there will have been plenty of petty politics about precedence, I bet.”

“Yes, maybe. That’s some of it, anyway. But something feels like a threat, and I’m less surprised Prince Eitaro was afraid there’d be trouble, love. We’re walking into a hornet’s nest.”

That was nothing but true, Kel reflected — and a far bigger nest than she’d foreseen ; he was right there were was a tension in the crowds that shouldn’t attend visiting allies, even with immortals involved. And if a part of her was whispering that she was a lake, that calmness was always better, especially in Yaman, and that not even Michizane noh Fujiwara could seriously mean to harm imperial guests, a familiar anger was beginning to glow. Politics was politics, and people would mess with them, hoping for advantage, but if it threatened younglings in her charge, well, the Black God was always open for business. And while Lord Sakuyo might, given the kind of jesting he must have in mind, use such anger despite her resentment, and the gods gave no guarantees, she trusted him more than most. A decision crystallised.

“I think we are, love, but I don’t believe His Nibs means us to be pushed about by Lord Fujiwara or anyone else. And you know, Yuki, I’m beginning to think there really might be thunder before laughter.”

Yuki’s face showed tension beneath her white paint, but she nodded, taking a steadying breath. “Certainly, Keladry- _chan_. What should I do?”

“Who knows until it happens, Yuki? But I can’t see he’d need us involved unless he’s decided he’s had enough of something.”

Yuki all but frowned. “You believe Lord Fujiwara is to be rebuked?”

Kel shrugged slightly. “Maybe. It seems he’s the problem. But there’ll be enough hot needles to go round, I imagine, as well as grace.”

Yuki nodded again, and Kel was still pondering that _rebuked_ and the story of the murdered _kamunushi_ when the carriage slowed to pass through the Suzakomon, the Great Jade Gate of the Imperial Compound. To her surprise they didn’t stop in the First Square but passed through a further arch into the Second, where the enormous welcoming party, a sea of colourful robes and painted faces, was — she blinked — led by the Emperor himself ; still more astonishingly, he was accompanied by what must be his heir, Prince Taikyuu, about Tobe’s age, whom she had last seen wailing in a beautiful and almost certainly very uncomfortable crib. Patricine and Toshuro were there, with her Yamani nephew and nieces, and other faces she recognised, including Keiichi and Takemahou- _sensei_. Kel could see Cricket speaking swiftly to the other royals, and even as she muttered identifications to Dom and Tobe her brain was spinning with the implications — but of course any real Fujiwara threat to the Emperor would have to be aimed at his independent choice of wife and the heir of that union, and he must have decided he had to confront it directly. Her instinctive rage with any threat to a child kicked up a notch, and she had a fleeting sense of Lord Sakuyo’s approval, but the carriage had halted and a footman was kneeling to steady a wooden step by the door he’d opened.

Much as she disliked it, she had precedence in descending, and with a flicker of intuition thanked the kneeling man, though it was against Yamani protocol to notice servants. Dom, Tobe, and Neal saw nothing strange in it, though Yuki’s voice had a certain flatness as she followed the lead. The further waiting footmen included two brawny men carrying a perch for Cloestra and Amourta, a thoughtful gesture Kel appreciated, and a quick whisper had a darking message relayed to Var’istaan. A moment later, as their carriage rolled away, she could hear behind her the descending immortals offering their own thanks to their footmen. It was a small thing, and they might have done it anyway, but it felt right. Before her Jonathan and Thayet, having with Roald and Shinko given royal and received imperial greetings, had let her Papa take over introducing others to His Imperial Majesty and Highness.

As she had come directly from the Copper Isles, none of them had had any chance to drill Alanna, whose Yamani remained rudimentary, so necessary translations meant the Emperor’s elaborately complimentary welcome (and satisfying the open curiosity of Prince Taikyuu) took a while. It gave Kel a chance to study them carefully : Daichi noh Takuji had inherited later and was more than a decade older than Jonathan, but their eyes had the same look, placed there by the powers they wielded and decisions they had to take. Though hair and eyebrows had silvered and his face was more lined than she remembered, he had kept trim and warrior training could be seen in his movement, even with his gorgeous robes. The Prince also had the look of a lad in regular training, and a kindness in his face Kel suspected his father had had before rule beat it out of him. Widening her attention she became aware of the tensions centred on a square-jawed man in the first rank of courtiers, richly dressed in Fujiwara colours but too young to be Lord Michizane ; one of his sons, probably. The various _kamunushi_ present seemed tense as well, and she was reminded of Lord Kiyomori’s unamused earnestness at New Hope. Had all the blessed priests forgotten their own special High One was a trickster, his great voice a boom of laughter? And if _that_ were part of the problem … Her thoughts were recalled by her father’s voice.

“My youngest daughter Keladry you will remember, of course, my Emperor, if not her many hard-earned dignities as Lady Knight, Countess of New Hope and Clanchief Hléoburh, Protector of the Small, one of Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed, Master of the Craftsbeings’ Guild, and — well, there isn’t actually a Yamani word, I believe, but if there were it might be _Dragontalker_. Keladry, His Imperial Majesty and His Imperial Highness.”

Gritting her teeth slightly — she’d had words with Papa about his careful coinage, avoiding the pitfall of _dragonlord_ where the dragon was an imperial metaphor — and feeling the Emperor’s intent and perhaps anxious gaze settle on her, Kel offered her bow and spoke very formally.

“Your Imperial Majesty, Your Imperial Highness.” Both nodded, not speaking. “It is this fortunate one’s great honour to see You again, and her pleasure to return to Your realm.”

“Blessed Protector- _sensei_.” That was a new one, and Kel had to stop herself blinking as the Emperor’s own mouth quirked. “It is a puzzle to know how best to address you. Blessed Prince Eitaro’s account of New Hope was altogether remarkable, as were the paintings he brought me.”

“The Blessed Prince had the happy fortune to visit at an auspicious time, Your Imperial Majesty, while Lord Sakuyo of course does as he will.” The paintings weren’t a topic Kel wanted to discuss just yet, if at all. “And this one is remiss in not thanking You personally for the petals of Your blessing on us at New Hope, and for the _naginata_ instructors You sent to assist the pages in training.”

The Emperor’s gaze was sharp, though his voice was bland. “We could do no less, Blessed, and all admired your haiku.”

Her occasional Yamani poetry wasn’t a topic Kel wanted to discuss either, and a veiled gaze acknowledged the praise while letting it pass.

“May this fortunate one introduce her husband, Count Domitan of New Hope, Clanchief–Consort Hléoburh, and our adopted son, Tobeis?”

Both managed creditable bows, not that Kel had doubted them, and the Emperor nodded, something in his look suggesting appreciation of her adherence to proper formulae despite the oddity, in Yaman as much as Tortall, of a woman having precedence over her husband.

“Blessed Count Domitan, Blessed Tobeis. It is Our pleasure to welcome you to Our realm, for you too figured largely in Blessed Prince Eitaro’s reports. And none could fail to be moved by the rescue of so many children from necromancy.” Was that a hesitation? “Prince Taikyuu was interested, and hopes to hear a fuller story than the official report.”

Kel thought Dom had understood but was uncertain how to respond, beyond a slight smile and bow of acknowledgement ; Tobe smiled too, mostly at the Prince, and answered cheerfully, basilisk and stormwing drills in the High Mode and the vocabulary he might want showing to advantage.

“It will be this fortunate one’s pleasure to tell you, Your Imperial Highness, but it was only what was needed. The High Ones were most wonderfully angry with the necromancer.”

It would be beneath the Emperor’s dignity to congratulate any _gaijin_ for doing what all obviously should (if few did), but the spark of surprised calculation was visible in his eyes.

“So We understand, Blessed Tobeis. And that you have strong horse-magic as well as a maturity beyond your years.”

“This one has that luck, Your Imperial Majesty.” Kel, if not the Emperor, saw Tobe’s own calculation spin in his eyes, enthusiasm touching his voice. “Your matched _pangare_ bays are beautiful.”

“We think so too.” It was also beneath an Emperor’s dignity to grin, but his voice warmed. “Perhaps Prince Taikyuu can show you the stud, if you are interested.”

Prince and Tobe looked equally enthusiastic, but Tobe showed yet more wisdom in answering only with another bow and smile, and the Emperor’s gaze came back to Kel, something like approval joining his calculation.

“So one thing at least is settled.” His eyes flickered sideways. “And Blessed Lady Yukimi needs no introduction, while We are pleased to see her again.”

Though obviously surprised by the deviation from protocol Yuki’s curtsey was perfect and Neal’s bow acceptable. Kel was nearer than her father, and the Emperor had not dismissed her, so she supposed the introduction fell to her.

“May this one make known to You Blessed Lady Yukimi’s husband, Your Imperial Majesty? Blessed Sir Nealan of Queenscove, heir to Blessed Duke Baird.” The blizzard of _blessed_ s was absurd, as His Nibs must have realised it would be, but strictly necessary and they were all wearing their jade tokens for more than one good reason.

“Blessed Sir Nealan.” This imperial gaze was one she had no difficulty recognising, Kel realised — royal survey of a known quantity now met in person — and the contrast clarified her sense of his anxiety. She should have expected it, she supposed, but even now the idea that the Yamani emperor, a gorgeous and remote figure of childhood, should be made anxious by _her_ seemed altogether the wrong way round. She saw Yuki holding her breath, but if Neal’s accent remained horrible his vocabulary and grammar were decent, and the gods knew he’d had the High Mode drilled into him by everyone. The Emperor nodded, his voice to Yuki warm.

“Our niece’s letters have made clear what a boon you have been to her, Blessed Lady Yukimi, as to Blessed Crown Prince Roald and the Blessed Protector, and that like your brother you grow from strength to strength. And We should not delay your reunion with him and your most esteemed parents.” That dismissal was clear but the Emperor’s eyes came back to Kel. “As you are the Guildmaster, Blessed, perhaps your esteemed father will not mind if you introduce Us to its delegation.”

It wasn’t a question, nor was the answer in doubt, but Kel scrupulously glanced at her Papa, who merely flickered an eyebrow, and gave Neal and Yuki time to move on before gesturing the waiting immortals — and two sweating footmen holding the perch with Cloestra and Amourta — forward. She couldn’t change mode, but Sakuyan blessedness didn’t apply to immortals and she shifted register slightly.

“Truth to tell, Your Imperial Majesty, if mortal protocol applied this one would face a pretty puzzle balancing the seniorities of kinds and individuals. Fortunately, though all have heard Lord Sakuyo’s laughter, they care more for the pragmatic than protocol. Var’istaan and St’aara, with St’aara’s son Amiir’aan, were among the first builders of New Hope. Kuriaju and his nephew Ventriaju came later, but are founder members of the Guild.”

Eitaro had told her his brother had met the basilisks and ogres working at Edo when they arrived, and neither caused him undue anxiety now. The universal fluency of immortals in Yamani was also imperially encouraging, and the Emperor knew enough about the siege to offer proper praises to Var’istaan and Ventriaju. But Cloestra and Amourta were another matter, spotlessly clean as they might be, and their nakedness did not help ; but there _was_ Cloestra’s visibly Yamani heritage and its echo in Amourta. Kel made the formal introductions, waited on the stormwings’ precise responses, seeing the wariness in imperial eyes, and let a confiding tone into her voice even as she projected it more strongly, a command trick of Raoul’s she had long learned to appreciate.

“Cloestra has been telling us of her memories of Heian-Kyó in centuries past, Your Imperial Majesty. Those Amourta cannot of course share, Your Imperial Highness, for she has but two mortal years, and is the youngest member of the Guild — though by no means the least, having been among those stormwings who fulfilled Shakith’s prophecy.”

The Emperor had heard what she was doing, and if a strange glint came to his eye he didn’t hesitate in joining Prince Taikyuu in expressing appreciation of precocity. And Amourta played along perfectly, her impeccable Yamani and ironic understanding in blazing contrast to her stated age and inexperience.

“The Protector was forced to very great slaughter before Queen Barzha could kill King Maggur. It was extremely nourishing.” Light glinted on steel feathers and teeth. “And we have a gift for Your Imperial Majesty on the Guild’s behalf, if such does not offend.”

Curiosity joined mild shock in imperial eyes. “By no means.”

Kuriaju produced from a pocket only an ogre’s tunic could harbour a long, slim case, and held it open in Yamani style.

“An arrow fletched by the Protector with my hatching down. She gave one to Lord Weiryn of the Hunt, who informs us that its virtue, beyond that of all stormwing fletching, as a magekiller, is to cleave to its target through any armour, as I clove open my shell.”

“Indeed?”

Kel had already noted archer’s callouses on imperial hands, and was gratified but unsurprised by obviously genuine interest as he peered at and extracted the arrow, turning it in his hands ; with another breath of intuition she took a risk, and dropping her voice to a murmur dropped also into the friend-to-imperial Prince Eitaro had insisted on.

“Beware the vanes, my Emperor, for they will slice even godflesh to the bone.”

His eyes flashed and as he carefully replaced the arrow in its case he replied in the mode’s proper reverse before switching up again.

“Thank you, Keladry- _chan_. And Our warm thanks, Amourta, Cloestra, and all, for such an immortal gift.”

A pleased Kel let her voice become brisker, while still projecting and modifying her formal register a little more.

“And last, Your Imperial Majesty, though again by no means least, allow me to present Journeydragon Lady Skysong — also very young in terms of her own kind, having but fifteen years, yet the first qualified Journeybeing of the Guild, as well as one granted Honorary Citizenship of New Hope for her great part in its creation. She is also thereby, despite her youth, the senior dragon among those resident in the Mortal Realms, though some are many centuries older.”

Most of that had been negotiated with Kit long before, to much mutual amusement, but on the river barge Kit’s response had been modified, adding to her deep nod (dragons, she had told Kel quite flatly, did not bow) a momentary wreath of dragonfire hovering in the air between them that had everyone straightening.

_Such is my honour, Emperor Daichi noh Takuji, and I am happy now to offer you, beyond my own, the greetings of Ancestor Rainbow Windheart, who rules the Dragonmeet, and of my grandsire, Lord Diamondflame, dominant among dragonkind. They are pleased we should be again known among mortals in the Time of the Protector._

Kel hadn’t much cared for the last phrase, but with darking relay available Kit had had both Rainbow’s and Diamondflame’s interested support, so protest had been futile ; and perhaps the dragons had been right. The rippling shock among courtiers told her Kit’s increasingly potent mindvoice had slapped sensibilities hard, and the combination of native dignity and authority (and flame) served notice to anyone with sense that Kit’s size belied her potency. The Emperor’s return nod was also deeper than to others, acknowledging it.

“Thank you, Journeydragon Lady Skysong, and do please convey Our own greetings to Ancestor Rainbow Windheart and Lord Diamondflame. Should they ever have occasion to visit Our realm, we would be honoured.”

 _That_ Kel filed away — not that adult dragons would wait on an invitation if they did have occasion. And Kit had her own notions about how much protocol should delay satisfying curiosity.

_I will. Does the dragon that is your symbol have a name?_

The Emperor blinked. “Ah, no, not a personal one. The symbol is _ryuujin_.”

_Kel told me that, but dragons do not have kings or gods, so it sounds odd. The image is more accurate than Scanran ones, though._

“They are improving these days, Kit, you must admit.”

_I suppose, but they could hardly get any sillier._

Kel’s laughing eyes met the Emperor’s. “Lady Skysong was quite exercised when she first heard the _Hamrkengingsaga_ , Your Imperial Majesty, as you may have read, and remains keen to correct mortal misapprehensions of her kind arising from their long absence from these realms.”

There was imperial amusement, but something more, too.

“As is proper, Blessed Protector- _sensei_. No dragon should be misapprehended.” His eyes glinted intent. “But We detain you from other introductions. Toshuro- _sama_ will guide you.”

Following the Emperor’s gesture, Kel bowed again to him and his son, and with the waiting Toshuro, Patricine, and her parents led the Guild delegation to join a circuit of lesser greetings. Eitaro was conducting the Tortallan royals around various senior courtiers and _kamunushi_ , and Takemahou- _sensei_ was doing as much for Alanna, Neil, and Yuki ; Yuki’s parents and Keiichi had joined them. As they made their way across the courtyard Kel rested a hand briefly on Tobe’s shoulder, matching Dom’s on the other side, and kept her voice to a murmur.

“Nicely done, Tobe.”

“Indeed.” Her Papa’s voice was equally low. “Do you understand what’s going on, Kel? I am frankly puzzled by several things.”

“A pointed display, but beyond that ...”

“Mmm.”

There was no time for more, and a determined, polite briskness with senior nobles and bureaucrats of the Left-Hand ministries — the military and samurai, treasury, and security — kept them moving at a fair rate despite obvious curiosity about her and the immortals. But the switch to Right-Hand ministries brought them to the man she had assumed, correctly, was Lord Fujiwara’s son, Lord Shoji, here in his own right but also deputising for his father in his absence — itself probably a calculated slap, especially as Shoji’s name declared him a second son. The Yamani way would suggest exquisite, pointed politeness around the overt insult, framing its rebuke, but the pinched distaste in Lord Shoji’s face made Kel wonder, and she found herself unsurprised when after the barest nod he looked at his senior bureaucrat.

“Despite her _gaijin_ size she’s a lot smaller than she looks in those paintings supposedly by Sakuyo. I can’t imagine why she’s been allowed to cause so much trouble.”

A dozen calculations flipped through Kel’s mind as she saw Toshuro freeze and heard her parents’ startled breaths. Raising one hand slightly to forestall anyone else’s response she let her voice flatten.

“The originals of Lord Sakuyo’s paintings at New Hope are very much larger than the divine copies His Imperial Majesty has, my Lord, and the discrepancy between my apparent and real sizes a part of his point you seem to have misunderstood. You should consider it carefully. And what trouble can you mean?”

There were a score of ways she could have answered him, and what he had expected she couldn’t guess ; flustered silence, probably, but certainly not the direct question she’d chosen. It was she to whom _he_ was being introduced, and she had not dismissed him, so anything he said was addressed to her, no matter where his face was pointed : which made his tactics as inept as they were brazen. And after a nasty, spreading silence, he tried a fool’s escape without even the courtesy of apology.

“I was not aware you spoke Yamani so … competently.”

“No? My commiserations then, my Lord. Tell me, if you will, was it birth, malady, or accident that deprived you of your hearing? I would not wish to make any unfortunate assumption in so delicate a matter.”

Toshuro’s stillness shifted from shock to predatory enjoyment, and the bureaucrat’s eye also acquired a glint. Lord Shoji’s looked more like a fresh-caught fish’s as the mallet came down, but as silence spread again Kel thought giving him half-an-out would be wise.

“No matter — I understand that you would not wish to speak of such misfortune. But you have not answered my question, my Lord. Perhaps you didn’t hear it. What trouble did you mean?”

Her continued use of his honorific while properly using senior to junior noble — she held her title in her own right — was a running rebuke to his rudeness, and he knew it. But though he had no-one to blame but himself, she could see only surprised fury in his eyes as he drew sharp breath. His voice acquired a grating quality.

“You are said to have killed many.”

Kel considered, not letting the silence rush her. She doubted he had the least insight into the burden of killing on the scale she had managed, but vile as it had been she had made her peace with it, as with the Black God, and though she never forgot her dead neither did she allow them to haunt her more than was necessary.

“Alas, my Lord, it is said truly. War has that effect. I had lost count of men I have killed long before the siege of New Hope, and that dwarfed all that had gone before.” She cocked her head slightly. “But as the first five hundred or so there were self-declared traitors, in arms against their king, and the next thousand or two Scanran invaders, I am at a loss to understand how you suppose me to have caused these troubles. Perhaps you will enlighten me, my Lord?”

After some very uncomfortable seconds Toshuro spoke, though whether he was calming or stirring Kel wasn’t sure.

“I would imagine, Blessed Protector- _sensei_ , that Lord Shoji averted to the divine attention so clearly focused on you in recent years.”

“Ah. Thank you, Toshuro- _sama_. An understandable error, then, my Lord, but one you would do well to correct. The gods do as they will, always, and mortal notions of cause and effect are … less than adequate to their purposes. I am quite sure, for example, that Lord Sakuyo’s attention is on us both, just now, but to think I was the cause would be to suppose a man killed in a storm was the victim of a house, and not of the wind that blew its roof-tile onto his head.”

He was still trying to work it out when she smiled enquiringly at the bureaucrat, forcing Lord Shoji to make the introduction, then started her own introductions giving him time only to jerk increasingly angry nods as she named Dom, Tobe, and all the immortals. What they made of his rudeness was clear enough in their scrupulous, individual thanks to her as Protector and uses of his title, and as soon as Kitten was done, tail stiff with disdain, Kel gave Lord Shoji a fractional nod, and Toshuro cut in smoothly with the names of the next ministerial party. Conscious of leaving a fool fuming in her wake, she found herself quite enjoying the surprised appreciation and malicious pleasure that had joined wary curiosity in people’s eyes, but the final shift to the ranks of the _kamunushi_ brought a renewed tension.

Sakuyans were pre-eminent but had positioned themselves last, and Kel filed away the appearances and identities of the First _Kamunushi_ of Lord Mithros, the Great Goddess, and the Black God before coming to their white-robed ranks. Amid much bowing, Lord Kiyomori greeted her and introduced his superior, First _Kamunushi_ of Lord Sakuyo Hidetaki, a vigorous old man in whose sunken eyes suspicions wrestled with fears.

“Blessed Protector- _sensei_.” His reedy voice made him sound as dubious about the title as Kel herself, and he was eyeing her jade token and the many others on view with something less than pleasure. “You are said to have received unprecedented attention from the High One.”

“And so I have, my Lord.” She gave him an open smile. “Irritating, isn’t it? For me too, usually, I assure you. But he is a great trickster, after all.”

Unfortunately he seemed more puzzled than amused or reassured.

“He is not therefore to be taken lightly!”

“Of course not, my Lord, though his hand be as light as a leaf. And I have never taken him so, I assure you. Yet in my experience it does not do to confuse levity and frivolity with any god, especially a trickster.”

“Hmph.” He changed tack. “Do you know, Blessed, why he should have wanted your Guild as his architects, as the _kamunushi_ of Edo are so certain he did?”

Kel shrugged as delicately as her size allowed. “The layers of his thinking are beyond any mortal ken, my Lord, but the top few … well, I could say he saw the Guild’s work to Geraint- _sensei’_ s design at New Hope, and approved of it. It is also plain that many gods welcome closer co-operation between mortals and immortals — both Lord Weiryn and Lord Mithros say so — so I must suppose Lord Sakuyo is also glad to promote that cause here.” Something clicked in her mind. “Perhaps one might most profitably say that it is his advertisement of New Hope to his own people.”

The Yamani phrase lent itself to exactly the same resonant puns that informed the Tortallan, and Kel felt its rightness. Quite what His Nibs really wanted remained unclear, and she wasn’t sure either Hidetaki or Kiyomori had really grasped what she was telling them. But they didn’t seem impious, just wretchedly earnest, and she had another chiming thought of Sakuyo’s amusement at using what he had called her sadly stunted sense of humour to chide those still more earnest, and far closer to home. Both senior _kamunushi_ stared at her.

“You seem very certain, Blessed.”

“Do I, Lord Kiyomori? I merely report what he has written or said to me directly. To remain uncertain in the face of divine testimony would be too rude. And foolish. But so would supposing what little one does know to encompass his whole purpose.”

“Indeed.” With a strained glance at his superior, who nodded, Lord Kiyomori lowered his voice. “You should understand, Blessed, that not all saw what I saw at New Hope, nor credit that I met Lord Weiryn and his Green Lady, and you no longer shine as you once did on the second plane.”

Kel’s mind whirred, the notion that anyone would have been bespelling their eyes to look not having occurred to her. “Mmm. I don’t suppose I do, my Lord. The godwork I then bore was, um, recalled shortly afterwards. But I do understand that for many only seeing is believing.” Both men caught the reference, as did Toshuro. “Still, I would have thought the paragraph that keeps appearing in copies of my book, though not in print, would give anyone pause.”

“Many, yes, Blessed, but some say magic might achieve as much.”

“And what mortal mage — or immortal? — do they suppose capable of such magic without suffering swift and condign punishment?”

“Who knows, Blessed?”

Kel shook her head. “Anyone who bothers to think, my Lord. And how do Yamani copies appear on the second plane?”

Both men nodded at that. “They shine, Blessed, but only faintly. And not all have eyes that can see on that plane.”

“Well, there are a lot of copies by now, so maybe the shine gets shared out.” She was growing tired of the fencing. “I’ve no idea, but I’ll ask him if I get a chance. And we should compare the Tortallan and Yamani texts — I’ve been wondering what _kanji_ he might have chosen. Meanwhile, let me introduce the Guild delegation.”

Lord Kiyomori, to give him credit, coped well with immortals, but in Lord Hidetaki’s eyes she saw more fear than welcome, and pegged him as one part of the problem. How such a humourless man could hold the post he did was a puzzle, but that Lord Fujiwara — presumably — had been prepared to order the murder of a _kamunushi_ offered one explanation. Fear was rarely good for one’s sense of humour, and she had begun to think that Sakuyan (and perhaps other) divines must have been running scared of political conflict for a while — it would be no wonder if news of the booming laughter repeatedly heard at New Hope, and all the supposed favours the god had dropped on her head like hot coals, had the incumbent temple leaders as wary as cats. They were also worried about her agenda, and she tried to be reassuring.

“Besides the official schedule, my Lords, I am primarily here as Guildmaster, and other than showing my husband and son where I spent so much of my childhood, my concerns are with trade. My mother and I did wish to see again the Swords of Law and Duty she once saved, and I always liked Kiyomizu-dera.” The old Sakuyan temple was on the mountain to the east, Higashiyama, with a spectacular view that had made it a very visible target for those long-ago raiders. “Is that not well?”

If they thought it wasn’t they could hardly admit it, and at last the interminable round of greetings was done, with the Emperor expressing his desire that Their Majesties and all his most welcome and esteemed guests should have some time to rest and prepare themselves for the welcoming banquet that awaited all. Everyone, including immortals, seemed to have been treated as a unit, and they followed Prince Eitaro past one wing of the palace and through the landscaped grounds of the Daidairi, with many cherry trees, to a smaller but still handsome building with its own surrounding complex. When Kel had lived at the Palace as a child, it had been the Dower House of the Emperor’s mother, strictly off-limits to children, but she had died some years before, and now — or at least, for this — it made excellent and secure guest-quarters. An oversize extension had been added to which the immortals were directed, and with a wave to Kitten, Kel followed the royals into the hallway.

Footmen and maids were waiting to show the way to assigned rooms, but Kel, like Cricket and Yuki, had already heard the hungry chuntering and wound up instead in the feeding-room attached to the royal nursery. With the twins suckling Kel could happily have sunk into the pleasure of it, but if she hadn’t known better than to take the opportunity offered Shinko wasn’t giving her the chance.

“Keladry- _chan_ , I am so very sorry. Lord Shoji was unforgivably rude.”

“And stupid. Is he always so incompetent in his moves?” Having Faran at her breast meant Shinko had no fan to use, and Kel grinned at her look. “Oh, I’m quite as cross as I ought to be, Cricket, and I begin to believe he and his father are riding for a fall. But I don’t think going all earnest about it is what’s needed.” She shook her head. “You said it, you know, back at New Hope, the first time Lord Sakuyo laughed there. You knew of _two_ of his Blessed here — _two_. He must have been very busy elsewhere for a long while, so it’s no wonder they’ve all forgotten that he _likes_ to laugh.”

Shinko half-frowned, caught herself, and smiled. “I’m doing it too, aren’t I? And you did turn Lord Shoji’s terrible rudeness to others’ laughter. But Keladry- _chan_ , if you had not been able to put him down so very well, it would have become a very serious problem for my uncle.”

“And for Toshuro- _sama_.”

“Yes, I realised that, Yuki, and it makes me crosser than the insult, frankly. But it was still amazingly _clumsy_. And I want to know about the Sakuyan _kamunushi_ who was murdered. Also, how long have the divines been running so scared of Lord Fujiwara? Ask Keiichi?”

“Of course.”

Shinko nodded. “Good questions, and the last I can answer, Keladry- _chan_ , because it’s for ever. Well, since my grandfather married, anyway. Besides mothers-in-law, the _kamunushi_ of the First Temple were another Fujiwara means of control.”

“Are Hidetaki and Kiyomori appointees of your uncle’s?”

“Yes, but they will have been compromises. I was not privy to any details, but I can ask. What did they say to you?”

“If you would. Oh, and does your uncle want to talk privately about Lord Sakuyo? I’d thought he would, but he didn’t say anything. As for the _kamunushi_ , they, um, sat very hard on the fence while making sure I understood that some with potent opinions were unconvinced I was, if indeed Blessed, any kind of blessing.”

“More rudeness!”

“And foolishness, Cricket. Never mind messing with me — just think about what happens to people who don’t at least try to see the funny side of Lord Sakuyo’s jokes.”

* * * * *

It was very late before Kel finally got to bed, and if she hadn’t been able to use the twins as an unimpeachable excuse for withdrawing she thought she might be answering Jonathan and Thayet still. They had needed briefing about Lord Shoji and the Sakuyans before dinner, and her advice, strongly backed by a grateful and impressed Toshuro, and an alarmed Patricine, to act as if nothing worth noticing could possibly have happened, had proven sound. Lord Shoji was not present at the meal, and all the visitors were surrounded by loyalist nobles who restricted their conversation to explanations of each dish interspersed with questions about the Scanran War and possibilities of trade. One interesting point was that although the Yamanis expected mortal guests to eat Yamani dishes without blinking, immortal needs and tastes had been catered for — a rock-feast the basilisks obviously appreciated, larger vegetarian dishes for the ogres, low perches but no place-settings for the stormwings, and some spicy dishes hot enough to have Kitten chewing with enthusiasm.

It had been a long, eventful day, and people had been relieved when Jonathan and Thayet gracefully pleaded the rigours of travel, allowing all the visitors to withdraw. But Jonathan had then wanted a much more extensive briefing, or rather to hash over all sorts of speculations, and Alanna, buoyant with the absence of sea-sickness, had been happy to oblige ; even her parents had been drawn in, trying to map the politics going on, and if that was more useful Kel had still thought too much of it guesswork. When Thayet had cut across her husband to ask Kel what she thought, she had stood.

“I think the twins need feeding, I need sleep, and you’re all going about this backwards. The question isn’t so much how things are as how Lord Sakuyo has decided to change them, and we don’t know yet because he hasn’t told us. But sometime between here and Edo on his day when the temple is dedicated, he will, and then we do it. Even thunder stops, remember? If it really is Lord Fujiwara who’s the problem, he doesn’t stand a chance, whatever he thinks. But I _am_ concerned about the possible threat to immortals, sire. I didn’t have much choice, but the way I used their introductions to silence Lord Shoji will have compounded the fear that was plain in his eyes — just as in Runnerspring’s that day on the clifftop, so we need to be careful.”

She’d turned to the immortals who were listening.

“I’m sorry for it, and you all played along beautifully, thank you, but I feel bound to suggest you make sure you are always in strength.”

“We hear you, Protector.” Var’istaan gestured with a forepaw. “Yet few mortals offering any of us violence could hope to survive.”

“And such a man as Lord Fujiwara, in Yaman, would have no difficulty finding an assassin who would coldly accept that. It makes a difference.”

St’aara nodded. “We realise, Protector. Perhaps we might speak of it in the morning, before any leave this place.”

A nodding Kel had made her escape, to nurse her babes and fall into a deep sleep beside Dom until roused by the night-maid to repeat both procedures. Over the morning feed Ebony reported that Diamondflame and Rainbow had been told of her message, and she turned options in her mind : mortals were scheduled to visit the Temple District and make offerings, which was a better invitation to divine moves than mortal ones and to her advantage, but all the immortals wanted to explore the city, and the stormwings needed to fly. It was still Kitten who worried her, and before eating she dressed in training clothes and slipped out, taking her glaive and using the half-remembered backways of the Daidairi to make her way to the compound of the Imperial Guard — where, as she had hoped, Kravimal and several other spidrens were sparring with samurai. The sight was fascinating and set all sorts of ideas churning, but Hayato- _sensei_ was also there, offering a smiling bow.

“I wondered if you might come, Blessed.”

“As I hoped you might be here, _sensei_. But I must confess my childbed is yet less than two months past, and I am still recovering fitness.”

The _sensei_ acknowledged that with another bow, but after watching Kel through a warm-up pattern dance and sparring gently for a few minutes, began to push the tempo. Stimulated as much by being back in a place where she had often spent time in childhood as by her opponent’s skill, and her own sense of being nearly back to fitness, Kel responded, and though they didn’t reach the perfect state, by the end they were more allowing blades to kiss than truly striking or parrying. When the _sensei_ disengaged, she smiled again.

“A commendable return to readiness, Blessed. Perhaps fortunately.”

“Mmm. So I have been gathering.” Direct questioning was rarely the right tack in Yaman, which was one reason it had so surprised Lord Shoji. “Forgive my ignorance, _sensei_ , but do I have any duties to the Temple of Weapons, in the light of your report?”

“No duties, Blessed, but they would certainly welcome you with interest and pleasure.”

“Even those who prefer the evidence of their own eyes, _sensei_?”

“Even such as they, Blessed, some of whom find themselves gratified even now. The Temple attracts pragmatists, you realise.”

Kel turned that one in her mind. “I see that it would, _sensei_ , yet not all who call themselves such see all the relevant facts.”

“True, Blessed. Did you know, though, that the Temple has approved the spidrens’ blades and opened a new field of styles?”

“I did not, _sensei_ , and thank you for the information, as the Temple for its wisdom.”

Kel had been too young as a child to understand quite what role the Temple of Weapons played, but she had seen its displays often enough, and after Hayato’s words at New Hope had remedied the deficit in several long conversations with her parents. It was so un-Tortallan it wasn’t easy to express, but as a vital adjunct of the samurai code it not only oversaw weapons manufacture but did so with divine sanction, its _sensei_ linking the military Left Hand with the religious establishment. And if the Temple were solidly behind all that the new spidren troops stood for — which made sense, now she thought about it, as the military had borne the brunt of the fighting on Wangetsushima before Takemahou- _sensei_ had brokered the treaty — real Fujiwara pressure on Sakuyan divines became understandable. If you’d forgotten His Nibs wouldn’t like it, anyway. Thanking Hayato again for her instruction, Kel excused herself and crossed to speak to Kravimal.

“I’d be glad to try sparring another morning, Kravimal, if you’re willing.”

“It would be my honour, Protector. The beauty of the movement of His Imperial Majesty’s _sensei_ of weapons was one attraction for those of us who enjoy fighting, and you are as they.”

“Not by a ways yet, Kravimal, but thank you. And I was wondering if you or some of your troop might keep a special eye on Lady Skysong for me today, when the immortals leave the Daidairi? She does very well, but she is young and excited to see a new place. And for all her experiences, she does not always quite appreciate the idea of hostility aimed specifically at _her_ , nor guard against it as she might.”

“Of course, Protector. Have you any guidance on what you fear?”

These spidrens might have become imperial troops but they remained spidren, not Yamani, and Kel grinned at the directness despite the topic, noting that Hayato was ever so politely eavesdropping. “Mmm. Probably not a direct attack, though after Lord Shoji noh Fujiwara’s crudity yesterday I can’t rule it out. But harassment or even attempted kidnap, dressed up as a jest, maybe. Or just the creation of an incident, playing on mortal wariness of the unfamiliar. I’ll ask Cloestra and Amourta to scout for you, but Skysong can bounce sideways if something catches her attention, and she _will_ ask whatever questions occur to her.”

She got a return grin. “So we heard yesterday. And even the mortal samurai guards agree the dragon of _ryuujin_ should have a proper name, so perhaps thinking of an appropriate one might occupy some of Lady Skysong’s curiosity.” He looked reflective. “And her own defences seem formidable, Protector. None of us here had met a dragon kit before, and while we know she is mature beyond her years, as all younglings of New Hope are said to be, we had not quite anticipated the reality.”

Kel nodded. “They’re born with it, I think, as stormwings with their names. I didn’t see it, but she stood off two wyverns for several days before she was three. As I understand it, she couldn’t then make them leave altogether, as she could now, but they weren’t coming any closer.”

“Somehow I am unsurprised. Do the gods also move here, Protector?”

“I believe they’re about to, Kravimal. Lord Sakuyo, anyway. And if so, the thing is to keep everyone alive until they do and we can see what part they need us to play.” Kel tapped a foot once or twice, and made a decision. “On the face of it Yamani politics is none of my business, but then I didn’t think Tortallan politics was my business either, and look where that got me. This feels like the same thing all over again — I just wanted a nice ceremonial visit and dedication, and to show my husband and charges the Yaman I love, but this shadow the gods have gifted me falls too heavily. What any of them want is a mystery, but I’ll bet two things. One is that the more peaceful everything stays, the better — I can’t believe Lord Mithros would want the alliance destabilised — and the other is that Lord Sakuyo will have words for his _kamunushi_ , and maybe others as well. Then again, no-one gets everything they want, not even gods, and if the … opposition is who and what it seems, they appear to be increasingly desperate and crude. And I cannot think Lord Sakuyo was pleased to find himself down one young _kamunushi_ — while to give such an order would take a man already risking opposition to the divine.”

Steel teeth glinted. “Wisdom, Protector. We always take our vigilance seriously, as we must, but we will be most alert.”

“Thank you, Kravimal.” She almost turned away but remembered in time. “Oh, what was your question for the Guild?”

His face stilled. “Wangetsushima is still quite crowded, though far more peaceful, Protector, and by the treaty we may not ask to expand elsewhere in Yaman for ten years.” Spidrens didn’t do self-deprecating very well, but Kravimal tried. “So we have wondered if the Guild might have use for some energetic younger spidrens?”

“Energetic or ill-disciplined?”

“The former if kept busy.”

Kel sighed. “I expect so. Quenuresh and Aldoven will have a veto on individuals, mind. Do you mean only as troops, or will they consider other occupations?”

Eyebrows rose. “Such as?”

“Sailing — lots of nice rigging to climb and sails to furl, _very_ interesting during a storm — or the manufacture of fine webbing mesh for petrification?” She’d never seen a spidren look so surprised, and heard a soft snort from the _sensei’_ s direction. “Both at Mindelan, probably, so Vorgitarl would have a veto too. Or there’s general webwork — renewing safety-nets for alures and suchlike. Most of that’s already taken care of, but I don’t suppose Quenuresh or Aldoven would object to some extra pairs of spinnerets. Talk to the others — they can tell you how it works.”

“I will. And sailing is a new thought, interesting if strange.”

“His Imperial Majesty has a navy, too.”

“So he does.” Kravimal gave one of those awkward bows. “Protector. You do not disappoint.”

Kel shook her head. “So Quenuresh once told me. But I must be getting back before someone decides I’ve got lost.”

She was doing Dom and her Mama an injustice, though, for both gave Jonathan identical I-told-you-so looks when she reappeared, properly dressed, in the dining room of the Dower House to see that Patricine and Toshuro had again joined them, with their children.

“Glaive practice, sweeting?”

“Of course, Mama. I had a nice session with Hayato- _sensei_ , and a useful chat with Kravimal she could overhear, so the Emperor’s briefed, or soon will be.”

Her Mama nodded appreciatively, as did Toshuro. “Excellent. You must be hungry.”

“I am. Oh, and there was one interesting thing from Hayato- _sensei_. Did you know the Temple of Weapons has opened a new field of styles for the armed spidrens?”

“They have?” Her Papa joined them, looking intrigued. “That’s quick for such a decision.”

“So I thought. But you should see them spar — I can see why a new field was needed. And who was taking most of the Wangetsushima casualties?”

“Very true.” He gave her a look. “An attested _gaijin sensei_ of the _naginata_ can’t have hurt.”

Kel almost rolled her eyes. “That wouldn’t move anything or anyone not ready to move, Papa, so pebble and avalanche at best.” She shrugged. “Which it might be, given His Nibs. But what matters is the Temple did it, so even if the typhoon gets out of the teacup it won’t be going anywhere much.”

“Mmm, yes. That _is_ reassuring.”

“Could one of you please explain, quite slowly.” Jonathan’s voice was plaintive.

“Yes of course, sire, but over breakfast if you don’t mind.”

There was, thankfully, Tortallan breakfast food, and having filled her plate she seated herself between her parents and Patricine and Toshuro, across from Jonathan and Thayet, who had Roald and Shinko beside them. With the edge taken off her hunger, she drank tea and explained about the Temple of Weapons before considering the royals.

“Nothing’s changed since last night, sire, but we know a little more. I’ll be glad of confirmation when Shinko and Yuki have had the chance to ask some private questions, but the bones are becoming clearer. Toshuro- _sama_ , correct me if I’m wrong. The power Lord Fujiwara has been hanging onto is slipping away, and the military is solidly behind the Emperor, not least because they were getting very fed up with fighting spidrens and he’s just fixed that. So Lord Fujiwara is therefore having to rely more and more on his influence with the _kamunushi_ , yes?”

Toshuro nodded. “That is quite correct, Keladry- _sensei_.”

“Well, I believe Lord Sakuyo’s had about enough of it. And that we are probably serving him as a pebble tossed to start an avalanche — but it will be a _small_ avalanche. I think.”

Jonathan closed his eyes for a moment. “And you were doing so well, Keladry. Any idea what sort of avalanche?”

“No, sire. But it doesn’t matter — unless His Imperial Majesty or a god tells us otherwise, our job is just to stand clear.”

“And cheer it on?”

“Maybe, sire.” Kel smiled. “Ask me after we’ve been to the Temple District. I think this would be just Lord Sakuyo’s business, except that Lord Fujiwara has taken his stand at least in part around the treaty — treaties, counting the one with the spidrens — and _that_ may be annoying Lord Mithros.” She sighed. “In any case, sire, all you and Thayet have to do, or any of us, is carry on while keeping sharply alert — reaction as necessary, but no acting beyond the scheduled events.”

“I’m going to regret this, I’m sure, but you know all this how exactly?”

“I _know_ very little, sire, but most of it seems straightforward enough. We know the gods support the treaties and welcome the emerging wider peace.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort?” Jonathan flapped a hand. “No, don’t answer that. I _do_ learn, if slowly. Just keep us posted ahead of time, if you can? Not that it really helps.”

Kel offered an austere smile. “When it happens, sire, we’ll all know soon enough. Lord Sakuyo is light-handed, not low-voiced.”

“If you say so, Kel.” Thayet, though quiet, had been listening intently. “Though something still seems off. We still don’t know what moved the Emperor to insist we be here now. And in this context all the formal jesting in Lord Sakuyo’s name seems much more alarming.”

Kel’s papa leaned forward. “Now that is true, Your Majesty, and I believe I do have some different advice on that. Seeking to play any of the more complex jests we considered becomes too much of a risk and complication. I would suggest that you stick to some of the good natured children’s jests we discussed, should occasion demand or opportunity arise. They have a long and honourable record of adult use, too, and would be taken in good part by … most.”

Shinko strongly agreed, and Thayet nodded.

“So noted, then, Piers, with thanks. That at least is simple advice, Jon.”

“So is my daughter’s, actually, Your Majesties. It’s just harder to follow, because it means waiting with an open heart and mind. And I think perhaps she is right that we are an added pebble, but that it will be someone else’s misstep that will start an avalanche.”

Kel shrugged. “Could be, Papa. A misplaced jest that will catch the jester in a greater one would make sense. What worries me, though, is Lord Shoji’s crudity yesterday — it makes him harder to predict. And to answer your first question, Thayet, if some earlier version of that crudity didn’t prompt His Imperial Majesty, Lord Sakuyo may have done so directly. Or indirectly. Do you know, Toshuro- _sama_?”

“There has been no public explanation, Keladry- _sensei_ , but what was _said_ in some quarters was that His Imperial Majesty had a most vivid dream of the dedication at Edo with Tortallans present, and believed it to be a divine suggestion.”

“Mmm. And what is _thought_?”

“No-one is sure.”

“So the suspicion is just because dreams are so often convenient?”

He nodded, and she shrugged.

“But Lords Sakuyo and Gainel are friends, so it could be no more than the truth. And either way, sire, we always knew we were going to be imperially staged, to political effect.”

With that the royals had to be content, and the scheduled departure for the Temple District was becoming imminent. Kel managed a quick word with the immortals, arranging for Cloestra to liaise with Kravimal, and knelt to speak solemnly to Kitten.

“The spidrens will be on guard, Kit, so the thing is not to leave their sight. I know it’s a bore, and that you have good defences yourself, but _please_ be careful.”

_I will, Kel. It is annoying, but Kravimal seems nice._

“He is, I think. And he was wondering if you had a good name for the dragon on the _ryuujin_.”

_Oh. That is a difficult question. Usually we name ourselves. I will have to think about it._

“Please do. And anything on griffins?”

_No. A mated pair are aware I am here, as I am aware of them, but they have come no closer._

“Mmm. Thanks, Kit, and have an interesting time.”

Kel rather thought everyone would, Kitten’s curiosity being incorrigible and Heian-Kyó an interesting place, but her own schedule called. Prince Eitaro was once again escorting them all, and she, Dom, and Tobe found themselves beside a slightly breathless Keiichi in a long, guarded procession back down Suzaku-oji and west on Shijo-oji. There were again many spectators, this time including far more children and consequently less silence. Amid the noise Keiichi spoke Tortallan and kept his voice to a murmur that reached only her, Dom, and Tobe.

“Keladry- _sensei_ , His Imperial Majesty very strongly commends your responses yesterday, and instructed me at the last moment to tell you He believes your conversation with Kravimal- _sama_ was most perceptive.”

“Does He? But only believes?”

“That was His word.”

“Mmm. So we’re all still guessing.” Having everyone stumbling about in the dark was probably part of Lord Sakuyo’s impending joke, whatever it was. “And while we are, Keiichi- _sama_ , why do you suppose Lord Shoji was so clumsy as well as so rude yesterday?”

“Ah.” He looked appreciative. “ _That_ is much discussed, Keladry- _sensei_ , but everyone was surprised. Not least by your responses, about which I entirely share His Imperial Majesty’s and Toshuro- _sama_ ’s opinions.” He spread one elegant hand. “Frankly, Shoji noh Fujiwara has never been anything like as intelligent as he supposes himself. His elder brother was far sharper, but Lord Shoichi died in an earthquake some years ago, so his father must make do.” Sending a second son had not been a deliberate compounding of insult, then, however Lord Fujiwara’s own absence might be construed ; though Kel wondered if it might have been the same terrible earthquake in which Princess Chisokami had died, rather conveniently for Lord Sakuyo. “I would guess Lord Shoji had been told to offer obvious but minor insult and overstepped, while it would never have occurred to him that you would or could use your senior rank and the protocol of introductions against _him_.”

“Ordered by whom? His father?”

“Perhaps. Or his grandmother, who remains a power in that house. Either will have been surprised by the outcome, though.”

“And now?”

“His father continues indisposed — a severe cold, apparently, to which Imperial guests should not be exposed — and it is suspected Lord Shoji may well contract it also. It would be easiest.”

Kel considered. “And stepping back would be sensible, yes. But if Lord Fujiwara wants to gain anything he’ll have to act, won’t he?”

“So one would think. And so he must have intended. But he will have had clearer-eyed reports than those from his son, and may be having second thoughts.”

“Oh?”

Keiichi’s look was serious though his eyes were warm. “Oh, indeed. You are an _extremely_ formidable person, Blessed Keladry- _sensei_ , even without the obvious respect of so many immortals. Not least Kravimal- _sama_ and his troop, of whom all are still most sensibly wary.”

“But Lord Fujiwara wants them gone, too, doesn’t he? And he must have known what he’d be facing from Prince Eitaro’s report.”

“Must he? Did your Lord of Runnerspring? Or King Maggur?”

Kel was still staring when a frowning Tobe asked one of the questions spinning in her mind.

“But that was before Drachifethe, and the paintings, and Ma’s book, Keiichi- _sama_. Doesn’t Lord Fujiwara believe Lord Sakuyo’s own words?”

Keiichi shrugged delicately. “That copies have been printed and the contents much rumoured does not mean they have been widely available, Blessed Tobeis. And there are those who say it is but mortal magic used most sacrilegiously.”

“So I gathered from Lord Kiyomori.” Kel took a breath. “But Lord Sakuyo spoke to Dom and me when we first saw that paragraph, Keiichi- _sama_ , and I do not think he will much care for those who refuse to appreciate his jest. Jests. How are the printed copies being controlled?”

“The temple has the press. Officially, they have been seeking and considering advice on how it would be best to proceed.”

“Ah. Something Lords Hidetaki and Kiyomori neglected to mention. Would His Imperial Majesty wish their decision hastened?”

“Certainly. He grows quite impatient with them.”

“Right.”

Kel thought doing something about that would be an opportunity worth taking, but she had to wait for her chance. Though punctilious in greeting her, the various senior _kamunushi_ who met the party as they entered the Temple District, smiling as the first-time visitors gaped at the elaborate pagoda rooves, were uniformly clear that this was above all a royal visit. Jonathan’s and Thayet’s various offerings were accepted with quite demure chimes, and though Kel, Dom, and Tobe all made their own offerings to Lord Mithros and the Goddess she felt nothing but that slight warmth that meant the god heard you. In the Mithran temple Kel was amused by the statue’s Yamani cast of features and a skin more golden than black, but despite praying for guidance was left certain only that he was watching with interest. The wariness of the _kamunushi_ seemed to ease as nothing untoward happened, but then they came to the temple of the Black God.

Though universally acknowledged in Yaman, as everywhere, attitudes to death and the right of liege-lords to order _seppuku_ meant that its god was regarded as — not the least, but perhaps the most inert of the great gods. His temple was visibly poorer, and his First _Kamunushi_ , Lord Sugaharo, was not only elderly and affable but deferential to his fellows, who showed him scant respect. Kel felt herself bridling at the slights, and when she added to her customary offering of an _ihai_ carved with her own name, and usual prayer for his own comfort, her hope that whatever the trouble in store none would have to face him on that account, she found herself quite unreasonably certain both that he didn’t expect such hope to be fulfilled and that he didn’t mind. A second later candles and incense flared as wind soughed through trees into that burning silence, and Kel rose, stifling a mild resentment at the imprecision of it all, to face the startled priests. Lord Sugaharo looked wonderstruck and delighted, the others as put out as amazed ; there was also an interesting contrast between all three and the Tortallans, with those Yamanis who had been to New Hope. _Relieved_ wasn’t quite the word, but the King’s look as much as Prince Eitaro’s as they converged on her suggested a certain reassurance that something positive had happened.

“That was the god’s own voice, Blessed Protector- _sensei_?” Lord Sugaharo’s voice trembled. “I have never heard it before.”

“You have now, my Lord.”

“Did he speak to you, Blessed?”

“Only in his own fashion, my Lord, which is beyond words. The gods so often are, I find.” Saying that this one expected someone to be facing his judges sooner rather than later wouldn’t help anything. “And the burden he bears for us is as far beyond our understanding as our aid. But as I said yesterday, Lord Hidetaki, there is something I have been wanting to clear up.”

Jonathan and the other royals had arrived with Eitaro, and Kel turned, switching modes.

“My Prince, does His Imperial Majesty have any objection to the distribution of my little commentary on Orchan of Eredui?”

“On the contrary, Keladry- _sensei_.”

“Then the delays, Lord Hidetaki, are purely on account of those you mentioned who are uncertain that the final paragraph is indeed Lord Sakuyo’s contribution?”

“Ah … well … you see, Blessed — ”

Rude as it was, Kel cut him off. “I take it that’s a yes, my Lord. After all, had you no doubts your undoubted piety must ensure your swift compliance with his evident wishes. But all such doubts may be laid to rest at once. And I should like to see the Yamani text, having read his words only in Tortallan, so perhaps you might show us the press before we go on to his own temple.”

It was clearly the very last thing he or Lord Kiyomori wanted, but Kel _was_ one of Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed, her jade token prominent on her tunic as on those of many among the visitors, and with Prince Eitaro expressing immediate assent and interest the _kamunushi_ didn’t have much choice. The printshop turned out to be tucked away in one of the buildings behind the temple, clearly not an area where the visitors had been expected, but Kel didn’t let either Lord Kiyomori’s running apologies or the novices and servants who stared and prostrated themselves slow their progress. But when she finally entered the hot, dusty room where three priest-printers were flapping startled dismay, and looked around, even she blinked. A press was a press, and presswork entirely logical, but beyond the orderly piles of paper and printed sheets she had expected there seemed to be multiple sheets of the last page, all lacking Lord Sakuyo’s paragraph, and bound copies in two piles, one neat and the other haphazard. A copy from the neat pile proved to be a complete text, and she flipped through it before studying the final, beautifully calligraphed words.

 _Gem_ had become _gyokuei_ , implying transparency, which might have made her bridle, but making her way through the _kanji_ she saw that _puissant_ had become _seiei_ , which could equally mean ‘chosen’ or ‘efficient’, and _jester_ was _doukegata_ — not the usual _doukemono_ with its implications of buffoonery but the trickster in a stage-play, who brought about both central confusion and ultimate resolution. Shinko of course knew the Tortallan text, and Kel passed her the volume.

“Some interesting translations, Your Highness. Perhaps you might explain to Their Majesties.”

A copy from the haphazard pile had no Sakuyan text, and it took her only a moment to see that Stenmun Gunnarsson’s paragraph, below which it should appear, had been altered. The same was true of other copies in that pile, though the changes varied from omission of a whole phrase to alteration of a single word. The unbound copies of the final page showed the same variants, and the look with which Kel pinned Lord Hidetaki was distinctly cold.

“Explain, please, my Lord, why you seek to produce wilfully altered copies?”

He took a deep breath. “Blessed Protector- _sensei_ , we merely seek to discover when and how the spell enters the volume. It would seem to be only with the binding.”

“And these altered copies?”

“Ah. An experiment only, Blessed. The spell ignores them.”

Kel tapped a foot. “And from this flagrant breach of your licence you have learned what, exactly, my Lord?”

He blinked. “Licence, Blessed?”

Kel took a deep, slow breath. _I am a lake._ “Yes, my Lord. The licence I signed to allow the translation and printing of my book here, which specifies that no alteration whatsoever be made.”

“But none of the changed copies has left this place, Blessed.”

“None should exist, my Lord, by the Temple’s legally binding word. I would be within my rights to cancel that licence out of hand, except that I cannot see how obliging someone other than his own temple to print a book to which he has himself contributed can aid Lord Sakuyo’s purposes. In any case, this experiment stops, right now.”

One of the printers was startled into protest.

“But we have not completed what was ordered, Blessed.”

“Ordered by whom?”

“Ah …”

Lord Hidetaki didn’t lack courage, whatever else he was short of, and tried to cover the fumble.

“By me, Blessed.”

Kel very much doubted they had been his orders even if he’d passed them on, but decided extracting the probable name here and now would not help.

“Then you can change your orders, my Lord. And answer my question. What have you learned?”

“Ah … That the spell is most discriminating, Blessed.”

“ _Discriminating?_ ” Kel was fulminating, but her anger was increasingly shot through with a welling and all too familiar sense of irony, and she shook her head slowly. “Talk about killing a joke. You know that Lord Sakuyo finds my sense of humour sadly stunted? What he would have to say of yours I hardly dare imagine. He presents you with a most marvellous jest and you decide you must conduct an experiment on it. And forgive me, my Lord, but your conclusion is inane. Of _course_ Lord Sakuyo’s spell, if that is a proper term for divine magic, is _discriminating_ , and not merely because he would never set his name to a lie or a botched piece of work.”

Hidetaki was clearly biting back anger of his own, making his voice sound clipped. “If it is indeed his, Blessed, and not some magical subterfuge you countenance as a joke.”

Kel stared. “You seriously think anyone could blaspheme like that and go unpunished? Coming here, of all places, in what should be the heart of his power in these realms?”

“Many blasphemers go unpunished. Perhaps the Black God protects you from Lord Sakuyo’s wrath.”

Irony spilled into laughter, which disconcerted the Sakuyan no end. “And perhaps, my Lord, you have with most wonderful completeness missed Lord Sakuyo’s point. Let’s find out, shall we?”

She flicked through copies from the neat stack, checking each had Lord Sakuyo’s paragraph, and supplied Dom, Tobe, Neal, Yuki, and Alanna, suppressing a grin, as well as all the royals and herself, before prompting Prince Eitaro to lead a return to the main precinct, the printers trailing behind with worried looks. The temple was a beautiful building, triple roof wide and elegant, and the white jade statue inside every bit as fine as she remembered. With a brief bow she slipped past Eitaro and led them all straight up to it, ignoring less senior _kamunushi_ who gaped and made way ; then bowed and knelt, placing the book carefully aside and gazing up at the image.

“High One, as you must be well aware, your _kamunushi_ here have got themselves in a great muddle, and it’s muddling everything else. Our best offerings to you are properly reserved for the dedication at Edo, but we had hoped to give these lesser ones more ceremoniously. Your Highness?”

Shinko had always been going to make this offering on the visitors’ behalves, and as she bowed and set the small but exquisite carving of a laughing face down Kel gave her an apologetic glance.

“Sorry to mess up the ceremony, Cricket.”

Shinko’s voice was strained but her words forthright. “Please do not be, Keladry- _chan_. I am quite shocked at these _kamunushi_.”

The other royals had flanked Shinko, and as he straightened Jonathan gave her a sidelong stare.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Keladry.”

“Me too, sire.” He wasn’t amused, but she was past caring. “Tobe, would you make our offering, please?”

He came forward with Dom, who took the little stoppered bottle from a pocket and passed it to Tobe, who bowed to the statue and after stretching to touch a wetted finger to its lips poured out a drop and set the bottle down.

“New Hope _sake_ , High One, named for your laughter. We have to buy in the rice but the Green Lady’s blessing seems to attend Aunt Yuki’s still.”

Kel had little taste for spirits herself, but both Neal and Yuki swore the stuff was amazing, and she hoped Lord Sakuyo agreed ; the name was certainly amusing. Rising with the book back in hand, she turned, opening it to the last page and seeing others do the same. Projecting so every word was clear. she gave an exact account of being presented with the first copy by Dom, finding the paragraph (then in Tortallan), and hearing Lord Sakuyo laugh at her indignant reaction. She lifted her hand to her chest.

“I, Keladry of New Hope, do swear by Lord Sakuyo and all gods that I speak the truth.” The absurdity of it all shimmered in her mind. “And as your _kamunushi_ seem altogether to have misunderstood your jest, my Lord, I believe they deserve another.”

Her hand completed the gods’ circle and the immediate chimes were as loud and pure as she’d expected. Nor did the overwhelming scent of blossom surprise, and she watched with appreciation as petals fell, strewing _kamunushi_ and visitors alike, but wondered where the hot needles might be until Lord Hidetaki began to sneeze — not once or twice, but an incessant string, eyes watering and nose streaming as the echoes boomed from the high roof like thunder. He was also going a rather unfortunate colour, and after savouring the deftness of Lord Sakuyo’s aim for a moment she snapped fingers for attention and pointed to the nearest goggle-eyed _kamunushi_ , who bowed so deeply she wondered if he’d fall prostrate.

“I believe it might be wise to assist Lord Hidetaki to the open air, Reverence.”

“Ah. Yes. At once, Blessed Protector- _sensei_.”

One of his fellows sensibly came with him to slip an arm around their still convulsing senior, and as the sneezing receded the echoes slowly died away. Kel’s speaking glance at Prince Eitaro met bright eyes, and with a welcome surge of mischief she used friend to imperial.

“ _Nothing stops the thunder when he clears his … nose._ ” Both the Prince’s snort and Yuki’s scandalised laugh were the proper music and Kel tried to bury her own grin in an austere smile. “It does seem unfortunate for a _kamunushi_ to be allergic to the manifestation of the god he serves, my Prince. Especially a First.” Eitaro manfully swallowed a second snort but not his smile, and she ghosted him a wink before pinning Lord Kiyomori with a much harder look. “In any case, my Lord, I take it that no doubts now remain, hmm? Good. During Lord Hidetaki’s, ah, indisposition, you are in charge?”

He swallowed, bowing low to the inevitable. “I am, Blessed. What do you require?”

“The immediate destruction of all wilfully corrupted printing blocks and printed sheets, the production of proper copies as rapidly as possible, and their prompt availability for sale.”

He took a deep breath, and nodded sharply before turning to the senior printer. “Get to it, Takumi, _exactly_ as the Blessed commands.”

All three printers went at a run, and Kel considered Lord Kiyomori. “Had you decided on a price?”

“Ah … no, Blessed, we had not got so far.”

Nor expected to, Kel would bet. So. “Poverty should bar none who desire to read Lord Sakuyo’s words, and if you wish me to ignore your gross breach of contract, you will charge by purchaser rather than a fixed sum — a gold coin from those holding _shoen_ , a silver coin from lesser bureaucrats, _kamunushi_ , and merchants, a cup or half-a-cup of rice from others. And besides this one, I shall want” — she ran names in her head and added a few for luck — “fifteen copies myself.”

Prince Eitaro nodded, eyes gleaming. “Of course. And His Imperial Majesty will want five hundred, as soon as may be.”

“Twenty for Crown Prince Roald and me.” Shinko’s eyes were also very bright. “We have promised the ambassador in Corus and several of his staff.”

Though he was gritting his teeth, Lord Kiyomori nodded, snapping more orders at _kamunushi_ who departed at speed before returning his gaze to her. Something was needed, and she thought for a moment before politely inviting Prince Eitaro forward, and lowering her voice .

“Lord Kiyomori, it is not my place to command you beyond those matters that involve me directly, but I have some advice. Tell me, if I say I will take silence as a _yes_ , how would you answer if I asked you if those orders about the _experiment_ came from Lord Fujiwara?”

She gave it ten long seconds, watching Eitaro’s gaze harden.

“So I supposed. And I understand the Temple’s obedience to them, all things considered, but it remains the case that Lord Sakuyo has been gravely insulted by his own most senior _kamunushi_ , and is quite losing patience, I believe. You will not be blessed with a second warning, so my advice is that you ask yourself whether you would rather face the Black God’s judges, whenever your time may come, with Lord Sakuyo speaking for or against you. Our time in the Mortal Realms is exceptionally sweet, as I who have thrice left them know all too well, but our time in the Peaceful Realms is a _very_ great deal longer.”

Counting her spiral-spell flight on Diamondflame was a bit of a cheat, but he _had_ said they ‘rose out of the Mortal Realms’, and she had long ago realised that the gods actually liked that sort of misleading accuracy. She half-wondered if being on Drachifethe when Lord Gainel could also be there counted as well, and it ought to be four times. Silver laughter echoed in her mind, and Lord Kiyomori’s bulging eyes retreated into a more thoughtful look.

“I hear you, Blessed.” Thoughtful became something bleaker. “Yet even setting aside sworn obedience, there is always immediate fear.”

“Of course. But is a sword thrust worse than choking to death on blossoms? Lord Hidetaki has much to think on when he again has the chance of a clear head. And fear can never be a valid reason for doing what you know to be wrong — only an understandable one. Like pain, my Lord, fear warns, but it cannot compel. The rest is between you and the High One.”

“It does not seem so, Blessed.”

Kel’s temper frayed perceptibly, and she tapped the book she still held in her hand. “Then, to be frank, try reading the ‘Note on Spiritual Warfare’ from first to last with your brain turned on, my Lord. Queen Thayet saw at a glance what Lord Sakuyo was doing, and you of all people should appreciate his jest.” She looked at Prince Eitaro. “Might some of your samurai guard ensure printing is swift and distribution unimpeded, my Prince?”

“Of course, Keladry- _sensei_.”

“Thank you, my Prince. And as Their Majesties are now due elsewhere, Lord Kiyomori, we must wish you good day.”

In the exit procession Kel found herself beside Prince Eitaro as he shepherded the Tortallan royals. The openly shocked expressions and abrupt bows of everyone she could see told her the chimes must have been heard far and wide, but despite the uneasy silence the Prince spoke conversationally.

“Where exactly are we due, Keladry- _chan_?”

“Anywhere I can’t reach my glaive, my Prince, to issue some more immediate advice.”

“Ah.”  He shifted mode and voice, “The Public Library, please, Hideki- _san_ , to deliver a copy of this blessed tome.”


	4. Pickles

Three : Pickles

_Heian-Kyó, 23 March_

Despite all the ructions and ripples, among Tortallans almost as much as Yamanis, Kel steadfastly insisted that the third day of the visit should remain her own, as scheduled, and her duty in it New Hope’s trade. If the Emperor had requested her presence she would have gone, but as he didn’t and Shinko had a whispered explanation that even she didn’t think made much sense, Kel just shrugged.

“So He has some reason he won’t divulge, Cricket. I’m not surprised — Lord Sakuyo is being _very_ close-mouthed about whatever it is he wants, so it’s probably another ambiguous dream your uncle is trying to understand without giving offence. And good luck to Him, but that being so I’m off to _suzukema-ichi_ tomorrow.”

The great pickle market was a public enough venue to defy danger, and Kel had genuine business there as well as a hankering to show it to Dom and Tobe. The immortals had had no trouble in the city, though both the stormwings and Kravimal had reported that certain individuals had shadowed them throughout their wanderings, perhaps intending mischief if opportunity offered. But it hadn’t, or they were merely observers, and all had found much to interest them — a warehouse under construction where Var’istaan and Kuriaju had been able to demonstrate what ogre strength and basilisk magic could achieve in partnership ; a funeral the stormwings had attended, horribly spooking the mourners but leaving them the richer for some immortal discourse ; and a spice shop where Kitten had eaten three of their hottest chillies without even a burp, winning and gracefully accepting for New Hope a bushel of rice as a prize before cheerfully eating a free meal of their speciality, made with the same chillies.

 _They were very good, Kel,_ the dragonet confided with some excitement. _I have the name, wanizame, and we should take as many as we can back to New Hope. Icefall will like them very much._

An amused Kel underlined super-hot shark chillies on her list, thanked Kitten for very responsible and grown-up behaviour, and told her about her own day.

 _The laughing god’s blossom makes his chief priest sneeze?_ Kitten shook her snout reprovingly. _That is not a sensible arrangement. But there is no accounting for gods. It is partly why they are so annoying._

“I don’t disagree, Kit, and they _are_ being annoying, though Ebony thought the joke punishing Lord Hidetaki was fun.” They were alone and her collar squeaked agreement. “If they’d only say what they want doing, we could get on with it. But no, everything has to be mysterious. Just bad habits, I suppose. Anyway, would you like to come to the pickle market with us tomorrow? As the next most senior member of the Guild present, it would be good to have your approval.”

That was a low blow, but Kit took her Guild rank very seriously.

_Of course I will come if you need me, Kel. But I am sure they will like Yuki’s pickles — everyone does._

“I hope so, Kit, but there’s what we want to buy as well. Yuki works wonders, but there are _thousands_ of pickles here, and you’ll know if any have special appeal for immortals.”

_Thousands?_

“Oh yes. Neal doesn’t quite believe it either, but he’ll learn.”

Kit chortled, and Kel spent the rest of the evening reassuring Jonathan and Thayet and, more congenially now she was mostly over her embarrassment about it, considering the Yamani version of Lord Sakuyo’s paragraph with her parents. Her father was especially struck by _doukegata_ , and after cogitating offered her an unsettling thought.

“The thing is, my dear, that the _doukegata_ is very much the moving force in those plots. Lord Sakuyo is often said to inspire them or applaud their jests, and the plays are all in his honour, of course, but they are the jesters, not the, um, jested. And while I entirely agree with seeking to know what he wants, I do note the major response we were blessed with today came because you stopped waiting and acted.”

Kel gave him a mild fish-eye, and he held up a hand.

“No, spare me, my dear — and your caution is certainly politically wise, as well as proper. But great jests exceed wisdom and propriety alike, and you know better than I that the gods like us to work and sweat. All I’m saying, my dear, is that where you have clear cause, I believe you should not hesitate to act. Not that you often do.”

“Umph.” But Kel didn’t have the heart to glare, and rather grumpily suspected he had a point. “The trouble is, Papa, that in open battle that’s fine — with the siege I only had to win, and anything that helped in that was fine. The gods turning up was wonderful in all sorts of ways, but the objective was straightforward. But here? I’ve no idea what he wants, let alone what would work politically. What the Sakuyans were doing with the book was the first clear target I’ve had — he wouldn’t be creating Yamani copies if he _didn’t_ want them to be read — but that’s why I didn’t force any public admission that it was Lord Fujiwara who interfered.” She scowled. “And presumably hoped to be able to circulate altered copies if he had to let any circulate at all. It’s a good job Lord Sakuyo’s magic _was_ discriminating, or we could be in a horrible mess.”

“My word, yes. But I’m sure you were correct that he wouldn’t set his name to something imperfect, and that the jest of his paragraph only works in its proper context.”

“Oh yes. Thayet’s right about that. But if it’s attitudes he wants changing, Papa, I’ve no idea at all how I’m supposed to do it.”

“Mmm. But you’re doing it anyway, sweeting. Yesterday you served notice at court that you were something they hadn’t rightly reckoned with. And today — well, those chimes were audible for miles, by all accounts, and the _kamunushi_ had a stall set up at the Temple Quarter gate before sundown with quite a queue building up.” Ilane grinned. “I don’t suppose it’ll please you, but Toshuro told me Prince Eitaro had a library orator read the ‘Note’ aloud in Kammu Park, which was packed.”

“Wonderful.”

“Quite literally so, my dear.”

Kel rolled her eyes and took herself off to nurse the twins, and then to bed and Dom’s distracting attentions. Waking very early she returned the favour, fed the twins again, and then, feeling very supple, and cunningly enlisting her Mama’s help, took Thayet, Roald, Shinko, Dom, Tobe, and Alanna off to weapons’ practice, despite various sleepy (and in Alanna’s case downright rude) protests.

“Hush. You all need to see this, and this is no time to be less than fighting fit.”

Alanna didn’t stop muttering about ungodly hours and needing her beauty sleep until they reached the Guard’s compound, when, like everyone, she grew abruptly intent. There were many more people present as watchers than there had been yesterday, and Kravimal and his troop were obliging with a display.

The spidrens fought with steel by taking their weight on their rear pairs of legs and folding the first three joints of the front pair underneath them, which made the glaive blades strapped to the end of the fourth joint into what were in effect paired swords. Most of the time they used only the first pair of legs, moving on the other three, but at need the blades on the second pair could be brought into play as well, at least briefly. And they were _fast_ , as well as getting considerable momentum and whipping speed into each strike, so the clash of steel was a blur to the eyes and a rolling clangour to the ears.

After a while sparring pairs reformed, and mortal samurai guards practiced more slowly and carefully against the spidrens. Kel assumed the standard samurai use of paired blades, _katana_ in the dominant hand and shorter _ko-wazikashi_ in the lesser, made the necessary double defence more natural to them than it seemed to her, but the asymmetry of swords against paired glaive-blades made for real difficulties as speed increased — and that was without any actual or threatened use of squirted webbing, which would not be the case in a real fight. She had brought her own swords, the Emperor’s wedding-gift, and though she would never be as comfortable with them as with her glaive, assiduous practice had given her some confidence in the style. She had also been amused to find herself almost grateful to Wyldon for his old scorn at her glaive, forcing her to do so much sword-work with both hands that the necessary disciplines had come quite quickly once her muscles had become used to the different balance required. Not that she thought it would help much against spidrens, as Kravimal suddenly turned just enough to use the blade on a second leg to block his opponent’s _katana_ while one first-leg blade blocked the _ko-wazikashi_ and the other stopped a scant inch from the man’s throat.

“Yush!” Alanna’s shook her head. “Rude awakening forgiven, Kel. Goddess but they’re fast. And sneaky.”

“Aren’t they just?”

“All of that, Thayet. And they’ve asked if other Wangetsushima spidrens might enter Guild service, not necessarily as soldiers, so come and meet Kravimal properly.”

He and his opponent had disengaged and bowed to one another, and he looked up as Kel led people across.

“Protector.”

“Kravimal. A _very_ impressive display. But let me introduce Her Majesty.”

Quite versed by now in reading spidrens, Kel suspected her Mama, Dom, and Tobe interested Kravimal more than Thayet and Shinko, or even Alanna, though the Lioness’s reputation was obviously alive and well on Wangetsushima. And she was sure he appreciated both her courtesy and relative ease, like all the New Hopers, with his appearance — the blades might make him an extremely formidable warrior but he was only half Quenuresh’s size and a _lot_ less bristly. He was also eyeing the swords she bore.

“Did you wish to spar, Protector?”

“After a warm-up pattern-dance, if you’re willing. But you’ll have to bear with me — the sword is my second weapon, and paired swords about fifth, not that more experience seems to help with the asymmetry.”

Steel teeth glinted. “Indeed. I have urged them to fight with two _katanas_ , but they say it feels all wrong.”

“Not as wrong as one of your blades through the throat.”

“So I observed. And to be fair, many _sensei_ are trying — hence the Temple’s new field of styles.”

Kel nodded. “So I gather. But let me get ready.”

Already loose from her rather different sparring with Dom, Kel chose one of the harder warm-up dances and took herself through it smartly, feeling comfortable warmth come swiftly back to her muscles and a light sheen of sweat starting. Then she laid her glaive aside, took up her swords, and with some trepidation bowed to Kravimal and took guard.

He began with slow courtesy, letting her get the feel of each sword against his blades, and of the awkward, slightly turned stance necessary to offset the clear advantage of glaive-blade against _ko-wazikashi_. It could be done but impeded any counterstrike and was a constant distraction, and as soon as he began to speed up she disengaged, stepping back, and shook her head.

“There’s only one way that’s going to end, Kravimal — the imbalance is crippling. Let me try something else?”

He nodded assent, curiosity in his eyes, and she swapped her _ko-wazikashi_ for her glaive, grasped one-handed at its point of balance. She was aware of indrawn Yamani breaths around her, and suppressed a grin — using a _naginata_ one-handed went against every precept of the weapon, and she’d never done so on foot before ; but unlike Yamanis she had long used hers on horseback and was entirely comfortable with the necessary grip. And it certainly made facing Kravimal easier : with the portion of the staff in front of her hand, the blade had greater reach even than her _katana_ , so she could revert to a squarer stance, and her utter familiarity with the angles, blocks, and deflections of glaive-blade against glaive-blade freed her mind to concentrate on the potential advantages of the wider and heavier blade of the _katana_ against glaive-blade. For now, at least, the novelty also worked as much against Kravimal as her, and as he again began to increase the tempo she went with him, light deflections with her glaive allowing her to get more force into strikes with the _katana_ and obliging him for the first time to concentrate on his own defence. The stance also made any attempt to use his second pair of blades very much riskier for him, as her restored balance meant she could pivot away from the slight turn he had to make, negating the advantage by putting herself out of reach of his further first-blade and enabling a lunging body-strike past the deflected second-leg blade, aiming for the gap in his mail where his leg emerged, that had him jumping back.

When they re-engaged he increased the tempo again, seeking weakness without finding it — and, she soon realised, creating a certain vulnerability of his own. Agile as he was, the six-legged stance was not one spidrens were designed to sustain, and the greater speed and force he was putting into his attack was giving him an impetus that he was in effect relying on her solid blocks to control. While he was using upward blows and she was having to bear down with blocks it wasn’t enough ; but the moment he next switched to a downward strike, aiming in at her body, she converted a block with her glaive into the merest, feathered deflection, turning slightly to bring her leg inside the unbalanced lunge into which he was betrayed, and with her _katana_ squarely blocking his other first-blade brought her glaive-point to rest a few inches in front of his nose. They were both frozen for a moment, and then she disengaged, bowing and, once he had unfolded his tucked-away joints to stand eight-square again and lift his blades back into their crown, receiving his own deeper bow.

“A valuable lesson, Protector, for which I thank you.”

“And for me, Kravimal, for which I thank you also. In a real fight, though, you could use webbing as well.”

He frowned. “Not from that position.”

“Maybe not. But you could have dropped flat as soon as you knew yourself off-balance. My strike would probably have gone high, or glanced off your helmet, and then I’d have been left wide open to a bite, if nothing else.”

Appreciation flickered in his eyes. “Perhaps. Though that is not an element of our fighting-style the Temple has yet endorsed.”

She grinned. “I imagine not, though that wouldn’t matter in a real fight.”

“True. But I believe we must continue this most interesting conversation another time, Protector. You have attracted some attention, for you are the first to beat me, or any of us, since we came here.”

Abruptly Kel became aware of the silence surrounding them, and the very many pop-eyed Yamani stares that disappeared as they offered deep bows and reappeared little changed. Thayet, Shinko, and her Mama had stopped their own sparring to watch, as had Roald, Alanna, Dom, and Tobe, and the look even in Dom’s eyes made emotions flare and shudder.

“Oh glory.”

But Hayato was coming forward, the glint in her eye at odds with her own formal bow.

“Keladry- _sensei_ , my congratulations on a most astonishing exhibition, defying every rule to exquisite purpose. May I ask how you came to such one-handed mastery of your glaive?”

She returned the bow, seeking calm. “I learned to use it from horseback, Hayato- _sensei_. Though better equipped and mounted, we were often outnumbered during the Scanran war and the greater reach and economy of strike was an advantage I could not forego.”

“Ah. Hisashi- _sensei_ wins our bet. He saw that in your movement to suggest familiarity with a greater advantage of height even than your own stature allows.”

“He is here?” Kel felt herself blush and the glint in Hayato’s eyes deepened.

“He is. Please, come and allow me to introduce you.”

Kravimal followed them across. The great _sensei_ , now white-haired though still clearly very fit, was amid a group of elders, and there were other names Kel recognised, but her attention was on the old man, and offering greetings in apprentice to master she gave him the deep bow acknowledging absolute respect .

“Wrong mode entirely, Blessed Protector- _sensei_.” He sounded cheerful. “Even in my prime I could not have done what you have just made look straightforward.”

“Forgive contradiction, Hisashi- _sensei_ , but it was entirely the correct mode. I saw you defeat Kenta- _sensei_ here in the Year of the Horse, and have never seen the like.”

That bout was still widely remembered, for after five interminable minutes of the perfect state Hisashi had somehow — and Kel still didn’t have a clue — fooled his younger, larger opponent and slithered the point of his glaive through a perfect defence — something that to the best of her knowledge had not then been done in living memory, nor again since. The old man’s eyes lit up while a slight frown appeared.

“You saw that, Protector- _sensei_? Yet I do not … unless — in company with Princess Shinkokami and in face-paint?”

Kel grinned. “Exactly so, _sensei_. I couldn’t have sneaked in as one of her retinue otherwise. It was the first time I understood what true mastery meant, and I am still groping towards it.”

He quirked a white eyebrow. “Striding past it would seem more accurate, Protector- _sensei_. Besides the deep unorthodoxy of your chosen weapons mix, I saw two complete sequences invented in a first practice, one turning an attack none had yet defeated into a wholly unexpected counter-strike that would have worked against any lesser opponent, and the other most ruthlessly letting Kravimal- _sama_ throw himself to defeat with his own weight and speed.”

“Just so, Hisashi- _sensei_.” Kravimal tilted his head eloquently. “We have been thinking in terms of two _katanas_ to restore symmetry, but it seems we must think more inventively. The Protector not only negated the disadvantage of the asymmetry but turned it against me — blocking _katana_ and _ko-wazikashi_ are not so different, but blocking _naginata_ and _katana_ are significantly unalike.”

“So I saw, Kravimal- _sama_.” Hayato nodded. “Few, though, have such precise and light deflections as the Protector, even among _sensei_. I have noted it in sparring with her. Do you believe fighting from horseback has aided that mastery?”

Kel coloured again at the open praise, but made herself consider. “To some degree, _sensei_. In a mêlée, with hostile blades all around, one cannot afford to do more than the minimum to deflect or kill, or the next opponent will find one an easy mark. But my instruction in the sword also stressed economy and that the least deflection was just as useful as the loudest block, so I’ve always incorporated that into my _naginata_ -work.”

“You had some wise instructors, Protector- _sensei_. And yet none in the _naginata_ , I understand, since you left Yaman?”

“There were then none in Tortall, Hisashi- _sensei_ , and no place in the pages’ training schedule for the _naginata_ at all, though that has changed, of course.”

“Most admirable. You used the _Moonlight Dances_?”

“Every day, _sensei_.”

“And yet were not constrained by them, as any student here would have been. All our new contacts bring much interesting instruction.” His look became more serious. “None more so than your also most admirable ‘Note’, Protector- _sensei_ , which I had the great pleasure and wonder of reading last night. May I ask frankly what you believe Lord Sakuyo’s purpose to be in so, ah, appending himself?”

Despite her continuing embarrassment at praise from a man she revered, Kel found herself appreciating both his directness and his phrasing, and tried to answer briskly.

“I remain unsure of much, Hisashi- _sensei_ , but Her Majesty saw quickly that his intervention makes the ‘Note’ not only a weapon but a practice of spiritual warfare as well as an attempt to explain it. So the question becomes the target for which that weapon and practice have been contrived — and great caution is needed, for such a practice only incidentally defeats a man. Its virtue lies in the sphere of beliefs and attitudes.” He nodded and she took a breath, thinking about the Temple of Weapons. “And though it is perhaps imprudent, to you, _sensei_ , I will say that it seems Lord Sakuyo is not happy about the state of his _kamunushi_. So it might be he is concerned with what has brought them to that state, there being a limited value in treating symptoms rather than causes.”

“Mmm. Interesting instruction indeed, Protector- _sensei_.” He turned the conversation. “Tell me, if you will, were you aware of your mighty jest against the Scanrans as a form of the perfect state?”

“Gods, no.” Kel was quite shocked. “It was a calculated gamble. I had to change the odds somehow.”

“And yet it dismissed more than half your enemy’s forces without striking any blow with steel.”

“Not so, _sensei_. The spidrens and centaurs who took out the loyalist perimeter overnight struck many blows. They merely did so silently.”

“Ah yes. And yet so many leaving the field alive has perfection in it.”

“Very many others did not leave it alive, _sensei_. And the most of that was mechanical butchery — blazebalm, pit-traps, rotating volleys, and at the last dragonfire.”

“So I understand, _sensei_. I did not believe your words to Lord Shoji, as they were reported to me, an exaggeration.”

“Alas, no. My hands alone were on mage-keys and dragonscale, and the killing-field my cold design. I had no choice and in the same circumstances would do it again, but there was no perfection.”

“I sympathise, _sensei_ , yet you now must brook my contradiction. A siege of less than one thousand by more than seven thousands that ends in the aggressors’ utter defeat, the death of their king, and the stabilisation of a long and long-violent frontier is no mere butchery.”

“It felt like it, _sensei_ , and still does, often enough. It was war, not chivalry.”

“Both, I think.” He was obviously aware of her discomfort and turned the conversation again. “But we keep Her Majesty and your esteemed mother waiting. Will you do me the honour of introducing me?”

Her Mama at least was sensible of that honour, and as they eventually made their way back to their quarters in search of breakfast Kel described, with Shinko’s help, the profound respect all felt for Hisashi- _sensei_. Thayet had seen and done enough glaive-work to appreciate the tale, but still shook her head.

“It does sound astonishing, Kel, but so were you. My heart was in my mouth.”

“Mine too, sweeting, though I’m coming to trust Kravimal- _sama_ and I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked with the double swords. It was all so _fast_.”

“And mine three, Kel, though I could just about follow what you were doing, if I squinted.” Alanna clapped her cheerfully on the shoulder. “Greased lightning came in a poor second. What did … Hisashi, was it? want when you were steered over there?”

“My take on the ‘Note’, mostly, which he said he read last night, and what he called Lord Sakuyo’s reasons for appending himself.”

Alanna grinned. “Nice one. And you told him?”

“Only what I’ve said to you, Thayet, and the King, but boiled down. His Nibs must be after causes, not symptoms, but who knows how exactly, even if the who seems clear.”

Thayet shook her head again. “Oddly, I followed that, Kel, but I have a sense you _are_ acting, even if you say you aren’t.”

“In small, clear things, Thayet — stopping interference with his book is plain enough, and though this morning went better that I’d expected, so is practical help in getting people more at ease with the spidrens.”

“ _Practical_ …. If you say so, Kel, though I doubt that’s what people are busy reporting just now. Had you practiced using your glaive like that?”

“Not really, but the _ko-wazikashi_ was hopeless so I had to try something. And it _is_ practical, Thayet — the Temple of Weapons was already trying two _katanas_ , so it’s not that much odder.”

“Especially when it worked so well.” Alanna grinned. “But Thayet’s right too, Kel. Even with all these Yamani masks you could tell people were shocked silly when you scored on Kravimal, so they’ll all be left very thoughtful at least.”

Kel shrugged. “Can’t help that, Alanna. And it seems about time someone was.”

* * * * *

Back in their private room, Kel found she had some soothing to do, Dom having been more exercised than he’d let on in public by the speed of her exchanges with Kravimal and the risk of using live blades without armour. He blew out a long breath and mimed a palpitating heart.

“I know you do it with your glaive all the time, love, but not against such a skilled opponent, and you say yourself you’re only a novice with the _katana_. But skilled or no, if I saw any men of ours pushing it that hard without armour I’d have them scouring it for a week. Not that any of them _could_ move half as fast.”

Kel squirmed, thinking she might well do as much herself. “Maybe. Alright, yes. But I was feeling good, I saw Kravimal sparring yesterday, and you could see for yourself just how fine his control is against the mortal samurai. I am sorry for worrying you, though.”

Dom nodded. “Just be careful, love, please. The other thing is that Button says the gods were watching.”

“Gods plural? Not just Lord Sakuyo?”

Button extruded its head. “Laughing god, also war god.”

“And blind god,” Ebony added.

“Huh. I suppose if some change is due Shakith would be interested, though I’d rather discounted that when Irnai chose not to come, but I don’t know why Lord Mithros should care. Unless he was just enjoying the fight.”

Dom expression was pained, but Tobe, who had been listening quietly,  distracted them both by giving her one of his old-man looks. “You did it because you wanted a proper work-out, didn’t you, Ma? In case you have to fight someone for real.”

She sighed. “Yes, partly, Tobe. I’m happier for one, certainly. But I also hoped doing well against Kravimal might make a real fight less likely.”

“Warning off would-be challengers, you mean?”

“Yes. But I have a bad feeling Lord Fujiwara’s been pushed so deep into his corner he’s determined to reassert himself somehow, and no amount of warning will help. And there’s nothing I can do about that, so I’d _really_ like to concentrate on the pickles today, for Yuki’s sake as well as the trade value.”

“Good luck with that, love. But I’m game to try.”

Dom’s irony was borne out at breakfast, where Kel’s nephew Katsumi and nieces Akemi and Akiko, bracketing him in age, seemed unable to stop staring at her. Toshuro and Patricine had had an elder son who had died of a childhood fever, and Kel thought the responsibility thrust on Katsumi as the heir had weighed him down. She’d barely had a chance to talk to him on this visit, but he seemed an overly solemn child ; her nieces, though, were in her limited experience inveterate chatterboxes, and their silent, wide-eyed regard was disconcerting.

“What is it, Akemi- _chan_? You all look like owls.”

She received only flushes, and Toshuro sighed.

“I apologise for them, Keladry- _sensei_ , but I must say I have some sympathy. We have just heard that you defeated Kravimal- _sama_ this morning, and having seen him in action we cannot quite take it in.”

“It was only sparring.”

“But the spidrens are so _fast_ , Blessed Aunt.”

Kel just managed not to laugh, though her Mama’s twitching lips did not help. “Mmmm. I really don’t think I can be a blessed aunt, Katsumi- _chan_. Keladry- _oba_ is fine, or _obasan_ in public, if you must.”

“ _Obasensei_ would be more accurate, Kel.” Patricine’s eyes were bright, and Kel flapped a hand at her.

“And more ridiculous than ever. In any case, Katsumi- _chan_ , yes, spidrens are fast, but many _sensei_ could match them for speed. And if you’ve seen them sparring with the guards, you know it was imbalance of blades that was the real problem.” He nodded, cautiously. “So I fought with _katana_ and _naginata_ to get round that, and Kravimal- _sama_ had to deal with a new weapons mix. I doubt I’d be so lucky again.”

“You used your _naginata_ one-handed?” Akemi’s eyes were even wider, shock breaking her unaccustomed silence. “Our teacher says we must never release our grips.”

“Your teacher is wise, but has perhaps not considered fighting with the _naginata_ on horseback. And even on foot, Akemi- _chan_ , there are times when one-handed can mean greater reach than an opponent expects. You need to be strong, though.”

“Can you show us?”

At least the honorifics were being abated. “Surely. Be ready tomorrow before dawn and come with me for training at the Guards’ Compound. Have you met Kravimal- _sama_ properly? Then we can do that too.” They all looked uneasy at the idea, and Kel wagged a mild finger. “I know spidrens make people uneasy, but have you considered how _they_ feel about it? For Kravimal- _sama_ and his troop, until less than a year ago meeting a mortal meant a fight to the death. Now they dwell here, the only spidrens among a hundred thousand mortals. How would you feel among a hundred thousand spidrens?”

Eyes went even wider at the thought.

“But they have all those blades!”

“And you can have your _naginata_ among the spidrens, Akiko- _chan_. Does it make you feel so very much safer?” She let them think about it. “All I’m saying is that in dealing with immortals do try to consider _their_ point of view. If you can endure his accent and ignore his mode, Neal- _sama_ can tell you about our first meeting with Quenuresh- _sensei_ , who is much larger and older than Kravimal- _sama_ , _and_ a mage. Most terrifying, I assure you. Yet she has become a good friend, and sits on my council at New Hope. She also saved my life, so while my stomach still finds her appearance unsettling, it would be too rude of me to let it show.”

Patricine grinned at her. “Easier said than done, Kel. Though I have to say having met Quenuresh- _sensei_ at your wedding was a great help when Kravimal- _sama_ and his troop arrived.” Her look became both rueful and thoughtful. “And all your advice seems sound, however unorthodox. When we got back here, you know, New Hope seemed a fantastic dream we’d woken up from, and you could see people not really believing the stories we had to tell. But I hadn’t quite realised how much of it is you, rather than the place. It’s extremely impressive.”

“It’s just common sense to me, Patricine.” Kel shrugged uneasily. “Immortals are here to stay, and besides it being ever so much easier getting along with them than fighting them, they’re extremely useful allies and most of them very pleasant and interesting beings. What are you all doing today?”

“Toshuro and I must attend Their Majesties, who are visiting the Imperial Armoury and Samurai Training School. The children can come if they wish, or stay within the Daidairi.”

“I was thinking they might come with us to _suzukema-ichi_ , if they liked. Kitten’s coming, and she’s persuaded Amiir’aan and Ventriaju. Perhaps Amourta too, though she and Cloestra had flying plans.”

Patricine looked at Toshuro, who shrugged delicately.

“But you have business, I thought, Keladry- _sensei_?”

“I do, Toshuro- _sama_ , but with Tobe and the immortal younglings coming, it’s no problem to take them.”

“Well, if you’re sure, Kel.” Patricine eyed her children. “Katsumi’s usually good, but the girls can be a handful.”

“I imagine I’ll cope.”

It was nevertheless a larger party that set out than Kel had quite anticipated. Yuki had persuaded Keiichi to come (though Kel suspected an imperial command also), while St’aara, Var’istaan, and Kuriaju were sticking close to their younglings, or just interested, and Cloestra and Amourta had promised to meet them there after exercising, so the footmen with their perch were tagging along ; there were also two Tortallan servants carrying samples Kel would need. With nine adults and four children as well as six immortals they made quite a convoy, and not entirely to Kel’s surprise Kravimal and five of his troop were waiting in the First Court.

“Given the observers yesterday, Protector, it seems wiser to be safe than sorry.”

“Of course, Kravimal. Thank you.” She introduced Neal and Yuki, and then, not letting them hang back, Katsumi, Akemi, and Akiko, who made nervous bows. She rested a hand on Akiko’s trembling shoulder, squeezing approval.

“They’ll all be with me tomorrow morning, as they don’t entirely believe me about using the _naginata_ one-handed.”

“You are in good company, younglings. I was most surprised myself, and some of the _sensei_ are still in shock, I believe.” He gave Kel a dry look. “And their teacher of the _naginata_ may have many things to say about the idea.”

Kel grinned. “I bet. But I was going to ask Hayato- _sensei_ if she might have a word. All else aside, if you’re learning the _naginata_ and to ride, there’s no reason not to combine them.”

Their way lay straight down Suzaku-ojialmost to the city gate, and once they left the Daidairi the spidrens took flanking positions and became watchfully silent. Kitten’s cheerful stream of chatter, with Tobe’s friendly questions to Katsumi, drew all the younglings into a group, and ignoring Yuki’s look Kel and Dom took a moment to thank the trailing footmen carrying the stormwings’ perch, who both seemed shocked and dropped their eyes. Kel sighed.

“May I ask how you came to be chosen for this?”

After a mutual stare one nervously took the lead. “We were deemed strong enough, Blessed Protector- _sensei_.”

“And brave enough? Stormwings can come as a shock.”

“Duty is duty, Blessed.”

“Always. But it has struck me how well you have done. Having them clean does help, of course.”

It took a moment, but curiosity won.

“Clean, Blessed?”

“Oh yes. They are making a great effort to live with mortals.”

A condensed explanation took them several hundred yards down Suzaku-oji despite their slow progress, and intrigued both footmen enough to put them a little more at their ease. Besides the courtesy that satisfied Kel the more for its unorthodoxy here, the story was sure to be passed on, and had at least the virtue of accuracy — not a negligible thing, as the bolder footman showed when he hesitantly asked Dom if he did not resent the immortals for his injured leg. Dom blinked, and spoke carefully.

“Forgive me, I may have misunderstood. Why should I resent any immortal for my injury?”

“Was it not an immortal that … ?”

“Certainly not. Whoever told you immortals had anything to do with it?”

There didn’t seem to be any clear answer, but when Dom had been seen to limp and use a cane the rumour had apparently circulated at such speed that Kel suspected malicious intent, and felt a new spark of irritation. Dom must too, but his voice didn’t show it.

“Well, it’s not true at all. I was wounded by a Scanran axe — a fallen man I thought was dead, and foolishly stepped over — a year before I ever went to New Hope. And I’d count many of our immortals as good friends, I assure you, and all as most helpful residents.”

“Perhaps you might both ensure truth is circulated as much as false rumour?” Kel chose words carefully. “It may be overheated imagination, of course, but such lies are often born of unfounded fear. And you have seen for yourselves that if caution and courtesy are needed — most properly for beings who have lived for centuries — there is nothing to fear.”

Kel didn’t know how much good it might do, but was certain ignoring servants as if they weren’t there was as silly and dangerous as it was rude. She was telling a mildly perturbed Yuki so, not for the first time, Keiichi listening with a wry look, when Kravimal called, voice wary but not alarmed.

“Protector, there is one who asks to speak with you.”

She went forward past the knot of children, Dom at her side with Keiichi behind, and saw an elderly _kamunushi_ in Sakuyan white. From his dusty robes and stout staff she thought he must be rural, either from one of the villages down river that supplied Heian-Kyó with rice and vegetables or on a longer pilgrimage, but he had been in the city long enough to have acquired what looked horribly like a copy of her book, tucked under his arm. She offered a short bow.

“How may I assist you, Reverence?”

Deepset eyes considered her with uncertainty. “Forgive me, my Lady, I hoped to speak to the one whose book Lord Sakuyo so strangely blesses.”

“You do so, Reverence.”

Uncertainty bloomed into shocked surprise, and to her annoyed distress he dropped to his knees.

“Forgive me, Blessed. I did not know you were so young.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Reverence. And please rise.” Ignoring Kravimal’s slight hiss, she stepped forward and more or less hauled the old man to his feet. “To enjoy his favour is not to deserve his dignities, Reverence. What would you say?”

Visibly disconcerted by her strangeness, he nevertheless pulled himself together, holding out the book, and spoke with plaintive simplicity.

“I am Katashi, Blessed, who has served him as best I can all my life, yet seen his First Temple lose its way, putting pride and fear before laughter. Now he names you his favourite daughter, Blessed, though you are of another people. Tell me, I beg you, how we may regain his favour?”

Suddenly aware of just how many ears were straining to listen, Kel knew in a heartbeat both that an amused Lord Sakuyo was among them, and that direct appeal was not what was needed.

“I cannot believe _you_ have ever lost it, Reverence, however his Temple may fare.” And yet. “But tell me, what did you feel when you read Lord Sakuyo’s words?”

“Great amazement, Blessed, and great wonder.”

“Which is all very well, Reverence, but what of great laughter? For all the lives that rode on it, what we did at New Hope was a jest, and besides lending us his aid he blessed the account of it with another, most exquisite jest of his own. Respect must be proper, but solemnity cannot be so. And it is but wisdom to laugh at his jests, as well as our pleasure when they are so fine.”

His expression made her grin.

“I know, Reverence. I wasn’t too amused at the time, either, I do assure you. But he has since taught me better, so let your devotions be crowned with laughter at his most consummate skill in placing cats among pigeons.”

He might be solemn but he was no fool, and his eyes glinted.

“Easier when you are the cat, Blessed, than when you feel yourself a frightened pigeon.”

Many listeners murmured understanding agreement, and Kel grinned again.

“Better, Reverence, much better. And truly, whatever he may be about, it will have the form of a great jest in which we are all most satisfactorily like pigeons. Yet as Honoured Kumo knew, still we must laugh, if we would laugh with him.”

He nodded ruefully. “Wisdom, Blessed, wisdom. You are gracious to an old man.”

“He too has that form, Reverence. How should I be less? But I must excuse myself now, for we have business at _suzukema-ichi_ , and many wait on me.”

Kel wouldn’t have minded having a stormwing handy to tell her what the crowd was feeling, but a glance showed them still circling high above and she thought on the whole her auditors had approved of her words. When they rejoined the other adults, a suspiciously demure Keiichi agreed.

“That was well judged, Blessed _obasensei_.”

Kel stifled a snort and replied in Tortallan. “You dare, Keiichi. Me giving anyone advice about laughing is a divine irony in itself.”

“Or the point, Keladry- _chan_.” Yuki also spoke in Tortallan, but her voice was shaded with seriousness. “When we arrived Domitan- _chan_ felt the tension in the city, but already that is changing — expectation and worry, yes, but also a more joyous waiting for his jest to break upon us. Do you not sense it?”

“I don’t know that I do, Yuki. Dom?”

“Hard to say, love.” He looked around. “This crowd’s so different from the one on that first day. What are you thinking, Yuki?”

“That Keladry- _chan_ was his jest in Tortall, and still is.”

Kel rolled her eyes at Dom. “Meaning what, Yuki?”

“Carry on.”

“Gah.”

“But she’s exactly right, Kel.” Neal had been stressed by such alien surroundings, and even, Kel thought, slightly abashed to realise his Yamani accent really was as horrible as Yuki had told him, but the sound of Tortallan seemed to have revived him and his eyes were teasing. “The last thing Tortall thought it wanted or needed was a lady knight, but they had to lump it and soon came to like it. And the last thing most Yamanis think they want or need is a Tortallan Blessed to make them sort themselves out, but …”

“Mmph. So you think I’m supposed to lead you all off a cliff in the fog, again?”

“Yes.”

Neil and Yuki spoke in chorus, and half-way through their hasty and embarrassing explanation to Keiichi, Kel threw up her hands.

“Well, right now I’m leading you to the pickle market, Neal, which is a temple of vegetables, so maybe there’s justice in all this somewhere, after all.”

Their laughter sparked smiles in the crowd, and drew Kitten, asking what the joke was. While Dom tried to explain, Kel found Keiichi murmuring at her side.

“I believe I agree with my sister, Keladry- _sensei_. You modestly claim ignorance and uncertainty, but your response to any event is very sure-footed, with high and low, hostile and kindly. And she is certainly right that the atmosphere has changed in the days you have been here, as deep fear tips into high anticipation.”

“But what was so feared, Keiichi- _sama_?”

He shrugged minutely, hands opening. “At worst, open warfare between Imperial and Fujiwara forces, for defiance is reaching a point His Imperial Majesty cannot long allow to continue. He would almost certainly win, but it would be bad.”

At least someone was speaking openly, and thoughts turned in Kel’s head. “Is that why he is keeping so aloof, Keiichi- _sama_? Letting me take point?”

“In part, I think, but no-one is entirely sure, Keladry- _sensei_. Certainly he is enjoying Lord Fujiwara’s discomfiture, and was greatly pleased by events yesterday. Had he moved against the errant _kamunushi_ directly, Lord Fujiwara would have had to defend his control or concede a further substantial diminution. But you, with Lord Sakuyo’s compliance, have delivered a bloodless victory.”

“Compliance!”

“So I saw. You asked, and he granted, most definitively. As that venerable _kamunushi_ just now understood very clearly.” He gave her a sly glance. “Neal- _chan_ was not speaking idly. He has a theory, you know.”

“Neal has any number of theories, most of them absurd.” Kel sighed. “Though not quite all. What’s this one?”

“Mmm. He was not entirely concise in expressing it, but what it comes down to, I believe, is that he thinks Lord Sakuyo has found in you not merely a tool but a partner in great jesting, and is the more amused by your understandable exasperation.”

Kel was silent for a moment, digesting this, and blew out a breath. “Perhaps. But what exasperates me, Keiichi- _sama_ , is being kept in the dark. I dare say he has his reasons, as His Imperial Majesty must, but it’s all a bit too like what the King kept doing, expecting me to play the goat and spring his ambushes without ever giving me a decent brief.” Her voice flattened. “And putting the least capable in the greatest danger.”

He followed her gaze to the children and immortal younglings.

“Yet they are strong and well-defended, Keladry- _sensei_.”

“And _children_ , Keiichi. For all their immortal precocity, neither Kitten nor Amourta is yet one hundredth of their parents’ age. Think about that. And you can tell the Emperor that if there _is_ any threat to them, all bets are off. Do you know about the men who were shadowing the immortals yesterday?”

“I do. One was an imperial observer, the other remains unknown. But we have a welcoming party, I see.”

They had walked almost the whole length of Suzaku-oji, turning onto Hachijo-oji, the last cross-street before the city gate, where the pickle market occupied the whole block between Mibu-oji and Omiya-oji. Kel had explained in her letter that she would be wanting to show kin and friends the market’s splendours before conducting business, and her appointment with the Master of the Market and representatives of some of the great trading concerns wasn’t for more than an hour yet — but Keiichi was right that a substantial delegation was waiting, led by what must be the Master himself. Though smells were stirring memories and the additional formalities were a bore, she let her polite Yamani mask drop into place and went forward with Dom and Tobe.

The Master’s speech of welcome was fulsome but not obsequious, and though nerves showed in his eyes he coped quite well with the various immortals, even when Cloestra and Amourta glided into land on the perch the footmen held. Not entirely mischievously, Kel added Kravimal and his troop to her roster of introductions, and saw the Master’s relief when it became clear only Kravimal himself would accompany them inside, the others being posted at the various entrances to ensure that none bearing weapons entered while the visitors were there.

Then it was time for a guided tour, and though she would have liked just to wander with family and friends the Master’s exact knowledge was helpful. Though it went against common sense, the market was not divided by merchant but by type of pickle, with parallel aisles devoted to salt, vinegar, sugar, vinegar and sugar, sake, sake lees, mirin, soy, miso, beers, malted rice, rice bran, and hot mustard ; each aisle progressing from the common greens, roots, and fruit, through pickles with dried fish and tentacle-fish, or roe, to the expensive specialties with unusual combinations or rare ingredients. With the help of bread and water to clear the mouth between times there was a lot of sampling, even by an eye-rolling Neal, and if Kitten’s interest in the hot-mustard pickles was predictable, the ogres’ unanimous approval of red ginger in sake lees was an interesting surprise. New Hope didn’t produce enough sake for Yuki to have made any such pickles, but here it was a practical use of a plentiful by-product and among the cheapest, which was handy.

Kel herself was pleased to try different merchants’ _umeboshi_ , having always loved the tart sweetness of the pickled plums, and mentally marked two as especially good. Akemi and Akiko were helpful, and clearly already knowledgeable cooks, with pithy comments about one merchant’s use of cheap oil. Kel’s business interest, though, was largely in the expensive specialities : New Hope could not hope to export in volume, having limited supplies, but with the way the food they grew was blessed by the Green Lady, and Yuki’s gift for combinations, the pickles she did make were exceptional, and Kel was honest enough to know that there was curiosity value to factor in as well. But the prices startled her, for the finest rare pickles were selling for entirely exorbitant sums, and she expressed surprise to the Master.

“Most buyers are high nobles, of course, Blessed Protector- _sensei_ , but as it is also they who produce and control the rare ingredients, it is quite a circular trade. And lesser families will indulge occasionally, when there is something special to celebrate, or a great gift is needed.”

That was worth knowing, and she thanked him politely. Given the prices she wouldn’t have dared to ask for samples, but the vendors were so eager to offer them to the Blessed and her entourage that they were able to try quite a few, to the children’s delight, and she caught Yuki’s eye with a very satisfied feeling. They were all interesting, and some were very good indeed, but rarity and fancy reputation didn’t always mean true quality, and there wasn’t one she would have traded for Yuki’s best. This bit of her schedule at least was going to work out nicely, which made a pleasant change, but she schooled herself to her blandest calm before asking Neal what it felt like to have a gold noble’s worth of vegetables in his mouth. Yuki’s _shukusen_ had snapped up long before he had finished spluttering.

“Mockery! Is there no end on it? You did warn me, Kel, but this place is a madness all the same. And what in Tortall is _daikon_ anyway?”

“Winter radish. Very tasty. And it may be madness but it’s going to make Yuki a lot richer.”

“It is?”

“Oh yes. And it’s time to set about it.”

Unsurprisingly, even the Master had no office big enough for the whole party, but he did have an official residence, only a few minutes’ walk away, with a pleasant garden into which they could squeeze. Tea was served, and after polite small-talk and more curious conversation with immortals, the Master, flanked by the heads of three great merchant houses, asked how they might further serve the Blessed.

“There are two matters, Master, kind sirs. You will be aware, I hope, that some Yamani pilgrims have already visited New Hope and Drachifethe? Well, even before yesterday’s happy events we had anticipated that more will come, and have plans to establish wayhouses along the route from Mindelan, as well as congenial quarters at New Hope and Dragontown. But with the considerable differences between Yaman and Tortall, some flavour of home would doubtless be welcome to weary travellers. And as you have seen, our immortals greatly appreciate some of your products, so it seems we should be planning a considerable increase in our imports.”

Serious new customers were a joy to any merchant, and if pilgrim numbers could not be predicted with any certainty they had no more doubt than Kel that very many would wish to come, and a fair few do so. The quantities ogres and apprentice dragons could consume were also music to their ears, and her income from her Maids and silver mines already sufficient, even with the other needs of New Hope, for Kel to be able to agree without blinking to a substantial supply. And having got them all into a relieved and satisfied mood, she could move on.

“The other thing is our own pickles. You may know that our soil has a divine blessing, but not what that does to the taste of the vegetables we grow, the oils we press, and the sake Lady Yukimi distils. Nor of what happens when she combines those vegetables with specifically Tortallan ingredients, especially some of our wild berries and hard fruits.”

Kel could see Yuki was nervous, but her presentation was smooth and to Kel’s amusement she had recruited all the younglings, mortal and immortal. The servants brought forward the carefully made cases of finely petrified wood, each containing half-a-dozen matching sample jars, and Yuki solemnly explained the ingredients as she invited the Master and merchants to try each one — red cabbage and apple in sake, winter potatoes and ginger in a light oil pressed from a northern variety of wild nut, a truly surprising combination of river-fish and cabbage in the lightly fermented juice of a rather astringent dark red berry, and more. Children and immortal younglings took turns proffering open jars, and if Katsumi, Akemi, and Akiko looked more than a little taken aback to find themselves at work with immortals, they had also overcome their earlier unease. The culmination was a mix Yuki had only thought of just before leaving New Hope for Queenscove, and had had to leave to Kel and Fanche to oversee — onion and ginger in fermented honey — and long before that the Master and the merchants had passed through astonishment to bewildered culinary bliss.

“We lack the facilities to produce in any great quantity, and some of what we do make will of course be for our own use or sale to pilgrims. But we wondered if there might perhaps be a market here for such surplus as we may have.”

After a long moment in which the Yamanis stared at one another, the Master met her gaze and to her surprised delight broke into an admiring laugh.

“If there might perhaps — you have a gift for understatement, Blessed Protector- _sensei_. And whatever the divine aid, Blessed Lady Yukimi has a gift for pickling to make us all blush.  Not a one that is not superb.” He gave Yuki a seated bow, others following suit, and she went so red she had to whip up her _shukusen_ , making him smile some more. “Your modesty is misplaced, my Lady. And this puts our agreement about the bulk trade in a very different light. What had you in mind, Blessed?”

The two trades might be offset, and there were potential advantages to that, but Kel also wanted income for New Hope, and for Yuki, saw no reason Yamani purchasers wealthy enough to pay the existing prices for specialities shouldn’t provide it, and said so. But she also had a curious condition.

“Let us be very clear, Master, kind sirs. Truly, Lady Yukimi’s pickles are superb, and will command their prices, yet some of the interest will not be from those with discriminating tastes but on account of Lord Sakuyo’s and the Green Lady’s dealings with New Hope — and I do not care to trade on any god’s favour without due care. So for every nine jars you buy, we will give you a tenth ; and for every nine you sell, one must be given away in Lord Sakuyo’s name to a family that could not afford it, drawn randomly by lot. Call it his tithe, if you will, bringing joy that cannot be expected. The administrative costs of that you will absorb, and for our part, if His Imperial Majesty has no objection, I will sponsor a shrine to the Green Lady, whose blessing our soil enjoys, here, in the lower city, as her tithe.”

As she was speaking Kel had a sense that she had for once perhaps managed to surprise Lord Sakuyo, but if so he remained silent. She had certainly surprised the Master and merchants, but after a long moment he nodded thoughtfully.

“A most interesting condition, Blessed, with commerce as well as piety to recommend it. If the total supply can reach three to four thousand jars, a daily draw for that tithe will attract many people.” The merchants were nodding vigorously but the Master moved his hands ambiguously. “I must wonder, though, if Lord Sakuyo’s high _kamunushi_ might be concerned by such an innovation.”

Kel kept her smile austere. “Just now I doubt they would say so, Master, but should such a concern be expressed later I would suggest you refer the matter directly to the High One, and invite him to make his pleasure known. He has, I believe, run a trifle short of patience with those who do not care to hear his laughter. Which reminds me …”

She had not wanted to start the meeting with such a blunt reminder, but now presented the Master with one of the copies of her book that she’d carried off from the printers yesterday, in another beautifully petrified box from the variety she’d brought with her against just such needs. Once he realised what it was he gave her a wondering look, and she returned a fuller but rueful smile.

“You’ll find what you want at the very end, Master, but do please take time to read the whole of the ‘Note’, for Lord Sakuyo’s words are specific to their context, and a joke on me as well as everyone else. And I think you are a man to appreciate his last line.”

“I shall of course read all, Blessed.”

“Then you will learn a great deal I hope you will never need to know about defensive fortification, Master, and how it may be improved with immortal aid. It is spiritual warfare that Lord Sakuyo seems to have adopted with some relish, though to what end exactly none yet know.”

She waited while he found and read the divine paragraph, the merchants leaning in to read it too, then nodded to Kitten. The dragonet was inordinately proud of her own paragraph, and delighted to point it out, along with Diamondflame’s, but was also scrupulous in pointing out those by Dom, Neal, Yuki, and Kuriaju. Kel had found it useful to underline the multiple authorship of the ‘Note’, and though she disliked the way she had to be central to the story she was grateful to Yuki and the immortals for their willingness to field inevitable questions. All had seen as well as heard his public manifestations, and if Yuki was reverent, immortals were wonderfully matter-of-fact. Kitten also had her usual disapproving commentary on foolish beliefs about dragons, but added a twist.

_When Kel and Dom and I went to the Dragonlands to arrange for the other dragons to come as apprentices, all thought her dragon joke very funny as well as just, and it was. I wish I had seen it, and not just the laughing god’s painting of it, though I must say that is very good. But it worked so well because Scanrans had such silly ideas, while here many people seem surprised that dragons really exist at all. It is very odd, and mortal beliefs very confusing._

“Ah, yes, indeed.” The Master took a deep breath. “They do tend to be, even for mortals, Lady Skysong. And it is many lives of men since any of your kind honoured us by visiting as you do.”

_But you remember us more accurately than Scanrans, as the ryuujin shows. I still cannot decide what that dragon should be called._

She lapsed into a thoughtful silence, distracted by the problem, and the Master’s wide eyes met Kel’s.

“You _visited_ the Dragonlands, Blessed?”

“Dom and I did, yes. On our honeymoon, actually, though as Kit says there was some Guild business to fit in as well.” It was too good an exit-line to pass up, and Kel smiled, gathering herself. “But we have taken up too much of your time and hospitality already. Do please keep the sample cases. And may I expect your agents at New Hope soon after our return?”

She could, and they took their leave amid far too much bowing.

* * * * *

Deaf to protests that there were more important things they should be doing, Kel and Dom spent the afternoon looking after the twins and listening to children’s wide-ranging and increasingly easy conversations with immortals. The lack of politics was delightful, but couldn’t last, for the evening agenda was a private dinner at which Jonathan and Thayet were the hosts, and the imperial family their guests. It was a peculiar arrangement, given that the guests’ staff were cooking and serving, but it was a convention of diplomacy during such visits ; Kel herself had arranged for the Council of Eight (as it then was) to do as much during the negotiations at New Hope. It would also have given His Imperial Majesty ample opportunity to speak to her discreetly, had he so wished, but by this stage Kel didn’t expect him to do anything of the sort, and she wasn’t disappointed.

Prince Taikyuu’s presence, though, meant he and Tobe could resume their conversation about horses, beginning with the Emperor’s pangare bays and the Prince’s own mounts but soon extending to Peachblossom, Alder, and Hoshi. Horse terminology had been one of the ways Kel had first taught Tobe Yamani, while they groomed Peachblossom together, and after listening for a moment she was happy to leave them to it, but found herself politely cornered by Empress Reiko and a brace of attendant ladies.

Although it had all happened before Kel first came to Yaman with her parents, there had been many admiring stories of Lady Reiko noh Minamoto’s resilience and general conduct when the Emperor’s pointed choice of her as a bride had convulsed society and politics. Since then she had been, while not secluded, distinctly reclusive, and Kel could only remember even seeing her twice before tonight ; certainly they had only ever spoken when her Mama had been honoured for her defence of the swords, and that no more than the briefest formal exchange. But the woman who faced Kel now had sharp intelligence and wry humour in her eyes, and despite the rice-powder mask it was clear that standing firmly back from disputatious politics did not mean any lack of understanding. She had evidently also been listening to her son’s conversation, and there was pleased approval in her voice at Kel’s similar care as well as surprisingly direct address in the intimate mode.

“Taikyuu often lacks companionship, inevitably, so it is nice for him to have someone to whom he can speak less guardedly.”

The absence of any honorific was a pleasant change, and Kel nodded.

“And for Tobe, my Empress, though with all the orphans at New Hope he hasn’t lacked peers in the same way. It is not only war that is hardest on children.”

“No indeed, though it is my most earnest hope Taikyuu will be spared that, as I have been but you and your son have not. Have the children recovered from the terrors of the siege?”

 _That_ was a question very few people ever thought to ask, and Kel’s opinion of the Empress rose further.

“Mostly, I’m glad to say. All were of course refugees, and more than half survivors of Blayce’s kidnap, so they were already most resilient children, and all under twelve were confined to the cave system during the action.” Kel sighed. “I did what I could to spare them, but they still saw far too much, including the killing field of the roadway before it was cleared, so we have our share of nightmares to contend with. Peace and hard work have helped, and I believe Lord Gainel sometimes causes them to wake when their dreams are too full of memories, as he once did for me.”

Eyes widened slightly. “He did? That is not in any tale I have heard.”

“Few know, it not being a tale I much care to tell, but yes, after … I first met the Black God.”

“ _First_ met?”

That wasn’t the usual response either, and despite the vileness of her memories, even now, Kel found herself again impressed.

“Yes. He also attended the treaty dedication, and the gods’ crossing of Drachifethe.”

“Ah. I had heard of the dedication, but the accounts Eitaro brought back of what happened at the bridge were most confusing.”

“As events were when they happened, my Empress. But then, they were not mortal business, and our presence during them incidental.”

“Hmm. Except that, forgive me, without _you_ there would have been no bridge for dragons to help build or gods to cross.”

“Even so.” Kel shrugged. “The Graveyard Hag said the bridge wasn’t even _in_ the mortal realms when they all crossed it, however it might have seemed to be. Or perhaps we were all somewhere else for a bit. I confess I’ve given up worrying about things like that. It gets one nowhere.”

She was actually enjoying this conversation, though the subject usually bored her, because very few interlocutors ever just accepted what she said — let alone what she didn’t ; the Empress did both.

“I imagine not, Keladry- _chan_. Yet you seem quite at ease with very many gods.”

That _chan_ was interesting, and a delicate invitation. Kel considered the Empress, and decided she didn’t mind being franker than usual.

“I wasn’t for a long time, my Empress, as I’m sure you can imagine. But the Godborn has become a close friend, and though she of course honours her parents she not unreasonably draws the line at worshipping them.” Imperial lips quirked and Kel let a smile show. “Quite so. Our Mithran priests find her attitude most unsettling, but as Lord Weiryn and the Green Lady don’t care in the least worrying about it seems entirely pointless. I’ve also come to find it quite refreshing, I must confess. And while I was of course entirely astonished and most unsettled myself when gods first began to manifest at New Hope, one must be practical. My brother Anders thought last year that I’d been pushed about by them so much I’d gained a sense of their rhythm, and perhaps that was true.” Kel spread her hands in the universal gesture. “But what they — or just Lord Sakuyo — want now, my Empress, I have no idea beyond the obvious, that he was unhappy to find his fine jest so slighted by his own _kamunushi_.”

That received a sharp nod. “Indeed. They were extremely impious, but you have taken most wonderful care of that, Keladry- _chan_ , as my husband and I were delighted to learn.” The painted face somehow became blander. “Lord Hidetaki has somewhat recovered, I understand, but still keeps to his house while he digests his shock.”

“Or confronts his conscience, yes. But hiding won’t help him, my Empress, however understandable, though penitence might. I believe, though I cannot know, that Lord Sakuyo is more exasperated with a foolish lack of humour than angry with impiety.”

The Empress took a deep breath and lowered her voice.

“Let us hope so. Forgive my bluntness, Keladry- _chan_ , but has the High One spoken to you?”

“Not lately, nor about this. Nor to your husband, I take it, save perhaps in the rumoured dream?”

“Just so. We have prayed much, but to no avail. If we only knew what he wanted. It is most vexing.”

“Tell me, my Empress. I believe it amuses the gods to see us all blundering about in the dark, and resenting it does no good at all. But I imagine we’ll get there in the end, at Edo if not before.”

“You believe he will manifest?”

“It seems likely. Still …” Kel hesitated. This was dangerous territory, but if the gods left you to make the running it was wise to do so, up to a point, at least. “Forgive presumption, my Empress, but my experience is that mortals must deal with mortal problems. What drew the gods to New Hope was remnants of Uusoae’s chaos and the Timeway. I just managed to make an answer to our Scanran problem a part of events in a way they were willing to endorse. The dragons too, whose elders see the Timeway as clearly as gods. But I know of nothing here to prompt such interventions, so unless that is merely _gaijin_ ignorance … ?” If it was the Empress wasn’t saying, and Kel shrugged. “Then it is, I fear, up to us to find a way forward of which the gods approve, to amuse Lord Sakuyo on his feast-day.”

“I hear you, Keladry- _chan_ , though I cannot see how any jest can help where two lifetimes of effort have yet to succeed.”

Kel thought the Empress might have said more, but an attendant touched her hand.

“Food is to be served and you are waited on, my Lady.”

Of necessity she went, and Kel in turn extricated Dom from a conversation with Yuki’s parents, receiving a grateful squeeze of the hand.

“In your debt, love. Keiichi was helping translate for us but got commandeered by Alanna.” Dom blew out a breath. “Yuki’s parents seem as nice as you’d expect, and delighted about her pickles, but my Yamani is _not_ up to detailed tales of Neal’s childhood.”

“They won’t have minded. Your accent’s much better than his.”

“Not hard.”

Kel’s grin faded as they came to the elaborately laid and decorated table. The Emperor’s Tortallan was as thin as Jonathan’s and Thayet’s Yamani, so they had to get by in Common which, however useful, lacked nuance ; and which the Emperor in any case understood better than he spoke, unified Yaman not having had much need of it outside trade and diplomacy. Her parents had been facilitating translation when needed, but as Jonathan had wanted her in range they’d been shifted sideways and the burden now fell to her. For a while she had little to do, save an occasional word, while they discussed the Copper Isles and information Alanna had been able to add to the report the new Yamani ambassador had sent ; the detail was new to Kel, and the account of the war against the Rittevons that Alianne had helped co-ordinate was fascinating — but inevitably included darkings, which intrigued the Emperor, and Jonathan gave her a sly look.

“It was how we knew about poor Dunevon’s murder so quickly, Daichi. _I_ didn’t know young Alianne had any darkings, but Keladry did, somehow or other, and when she heard from Eitaro and Takemahou about those mage-meddled winds she used her own darkings to get a direct report.”

“I see. But …” He switched to Yamani. “I confess, Protector, I am most curious as to how you came by these so useful creatures.”

The Emperor was maintaining his polite distance, and much as she respected him, Kel had no illusions that he would use darkings any more responsibly than Jonathan. She kept her voice bland, exploiting the very flatness of Common and forcing him back to it.

“Some volunteered, my Emperor, having heard of New Hope through Lady Skysong. They were bored in the Dragonlands, and the dragons would not hold them against their will.”

“So I heard, though to be _bored_ in the Dragonlands seems … I don’t mean rude. _Okogamashii_.”

Kel flicked into Tortallan for Jonathan and Thayet before reverting to Common. “Presumptuous with a sense of absurdity, sire. And having visited them, not really, my Emperor. I may not describe them in any detail, but they are a place more of thought than action, and darkings are young beings. They wanted more doing and less talking.”

“And they remain with you.”

“Say rather they have stayed with the Guild. We find them interesting things to do.”

Very conscious of Ebony hidden on her collar and Button on Dom’s, she explained how darkings were working to link Guild branches and with the Mindelan fishing fleet as well as merchants carrying the Carthaki trade in old spidren webbing and icelights. Dom, who shared her protective feelings towards darkings, followed smoothly with an account of the internal benefits for New Hope, principally in linking ogres while they had set the silver mines to rights and began opening new coal and iron-ore mines surveying had identified.

“Useful, no doubt, Blessed Domitan- _sama_ , but it seems … less than such creatures might achieve.”

Kel decided bluntness was in order, and switched to Yamani herself. “Because they might spy for kings, my Emperor? And even emperors? Please, do not think it. They are very young beings, created as slaves and, though the dragons taught them much, still finding their way in the mortal realms. And they remain volunteers, not subjects or liegers, while the Guild extends complete protection, ultimately guaranteed by the dragons. Even you may only invite, not command.”

Jonathan quirked eyebrows, unerstanding her tone if not the words. “The usual warning, Keladry? I’ve had it too, Daichi, twice, once from the Godborn and once from Keladry, and it amounts to ‘hands off’.” He shook his head. “The Godborn was especially scathing about rulers, so be grateful you only get the polite version.”

The Emperor cocked his head, considering. “Do you not command the Godborn, then, Jonathan? Or the Protector?”

“Both, Daichi, but within limits. They will serve me with honour, but neither will dishonour themselves at my command. Unless I’m very cross indeed I find I appreciate it more than I don’t.”

Kel thought about it over a mouthful while both men looked at her. Thayet and Dom were waiting on her reply too, with some trepidation.

“Good to know, sire, but you’re wrong. I can’t speak for Daine, but I’ve accepted dishonour at your hands several times.” Jonathan winced and Thayet visibly suppressed a smile Kel thought would have been more acidic than jovial. “What we won’t do is dishonour others by command, when they are under our protection. It’s why I disobeyed Wyldon — of Cavall, my Emperor — to pursue those kidnapped from Haven, and why Daine will only magic animals smarter for those she trusts not to abuse them. Ever, and under any circumstances. And the burden of rule is too great for such promises.”

Jonathan huffed, then shrugged. “I can’t disagree, Keladry. And I’ve told you straightly I know I made mistakes with you ; serious mistakes, and for bad reasons as well as good. But please understand that for anyone with a kingdom round their necks being told an obvious and helpful course is immoral is not easy to accept.”

“Oh, I do, sire. It is always better not to tempt kings, and I try hard not to.”

It took Jonathan a second to identify her reference, and Thayet was there first, leaning forward to speak across him to the Emperor. The Empress, Prince Taikyuu, and Tobe were also listening.

“When Kel killed Blayce the necromancer he tried to bribe her for his life with an offer of working for Tortall rather than Scanra, saying Jon would want it, and after beheading him she said to the corpse that he was wrong but it was better we never be tempted. It was in the vision the Elemental of the Chamber showed Jon when she came back. And you know, Daichii, I have since given thanks to the Goddess, often, for her wisdom. Blayce in our dungeons, offering to make us killing devices of our own, would have been a fearsome thing.”

“But it shouldn’t have been, Thayet. A temporary military advantage at the cost of children’s lives and the gods’ eternal loathing?” Kel offered a shrug though it belied her feelings. “Maggur claimed needs of state, and you heard from Lord Mithros’s own lips what he thought of that excuse. But we were talking of darkings, and while only they and the Godborn know the full story, I understand that while they _could_ rebel against their creator because Ozorne created them in the Divine Realms, they did so because the orders he gave them became hateful to them. They _are_ immortals, and like most simply will not do what they do not wish to do. And you should be grateful for that, my Emperor, for if you _could_ command them, so could others — Lord Fujiwara, say. Or Jindazhen raiders.”

As she had half-expected, Fujiwara’s name, though drawing a sharp glance from Empress Reiko, made the Emperor veer off, turning the conversation back to the Copper Isles and Queen Dovasary, and then to Tortallan affairs in the wake of the Scanran treaty. Jonathan had in the end largely taken Kel’s advice about the vacant fiefs created by the traitors’ deaths, disallowing the claims of collateral lines and awarding them to fresh blood — primarily military. Sir Douglas of Voeldine had been ennobled to take over Torhelm permanently, and the southern army commander, Alan of Pearlmouth, who had done very well against pirates and slavers despite resources greatly reduced by the northern war, now held Runnerspring ; Genlith, though, remained in royal administration while His Grace of Wellam’s searching investigation of its former lord’s dealings and trades continued.

“You take some high risks, Jonathan, so to dispossess ancient families.” The Emperor had a very thoughtful look. “Are they not incensed against you?”

“Mostly, Daichi.” Jonathan’s smile was predatory. “But as the fiefs were legally forfeit in their entirety, meaning all their existing grants were void unless and until reconfirmed, those complaining most intemperately no longer have the resources or positions to do much about it. And the traitors having been active participants in the attack on New Hope, not merely complicit, they enjoy very little general sympathy. I’m not entirely sure how the treachery and maladministration connect, but it’s clear most commoners in those fiefs are increasingly pleased with the changes, even though my tax revenues have gone up.”

He sat back, steepling fingers.

“And however unnerving at the time, it wasn’t that hard a decision. If I’d had to face a whole string of treason trials, with lawyers over everything and time for waters to be muddied, it would be another story.” He gave Kel a glance she read as apologetic, in a royal way, and mentally braced herself. “But Keladry’s pure ruthlessness — and the traitors’ own military stupidity — gave me an opportunity beyond hoping for, and I’d have been a fool not to take it. They openly took arms against me, and all but one were dead within a few hours, while he died in the sally that ended it. The broom swept clean, you might say.”

Kel didn’t much care for the joke, there having been nothing of the glaive’s elegant beauty in the butchery to which she’d been forced, but Jonathan was trying, and faced again with two enquiring looks she picked out what he still seemed not to understand.

“I believe the treason and maladministration connect, sire, because they had the same root. Numair calls it ‘egotism’.” She had to use the Tortallan word, Common lacking anything beyond ‘selfishness’. “ _Jibunhoni_ , my Emperor, or _gashuu_. As those men broke their oaths to you, sire, so they broke those to their liegers and people, caring for nothing but their own desires.”

“You thought them … _kuchisakidake_ , Protector?”

“Insincere? Utterly so.”

Jonathan frowned. “Yet Runnerspring spoke from his heart that day, Keladry, however vilely.”

“And what did he say, sire? We must have a Tortall cleansed of all foreign influence and immortals, with women reduced to slavery — as if it were possible. It was an absurd fantasy of imposing his own prejudices. And all the traitors together didn’t have the mother wit to realise they had made themselves Maggur’s expendable pawns. Even desperation can’t explain such sheer stupidity, but utter selfishness can, and does. Not one of them ever dreamed _he_ might be held personally accountable for his actions, any more than Tirrsmont when he stood there repeatedly lying to you, believing he need only say it to make it so.”

She would have liked to ask if Lord Fujiwara was cast in the same mould, and how his people fared as his political influence declined, but stored the question away as Jonathan’s look became wry.

“You do cut to the bone, Keladry, and I agree they were fooling themselves. But as _they_ supposed _your_ experiences to be fantasies, despite all evidence to the contrary, I can’t help seeing the … ‘ironies’.”

“ _Hiniku_. And that’s more of the gods’ laughter, sire.” Struck by a thought, Kel had to suppress a grin. “It’s even worse in Yamani, you know, because _hiniku_ is literally ‘skin muscle’, what you can see and the power underneath, so the gods’ _hiniku_ , which is what really cuts to the bone, is rather a marvellous contradiction.”

Whether Jonathan agreed was moot, but Emperor and Empress obviously appreciated the idea ; she leaned forward.

“You should compose another _haiku_ , Keladry- _chan_.”

The look Kel sent back made her smile, and after a brief interruption as further courses were served a welcome distraction presented itself.

“Whereas what you should do, my Empress, is try this marvellous pickle of Yuki- _chan_ ’s. The Master of _suzukema-ichi_ was most astonished.”

It was the fermented honey, and produced delighted imperial astonishment too. The praise sent Yuki very pink, and the catalogue of her other creations, with samples brought in, generated many Yamani exclamations. Kel was happy to stay silent, but did quietly explain to the Emperor her notion of Lord Sakuyo’s tithe and requested permission for the shrine to the Green Lady.

“But of course, Blessed Protector- _sensei_. It seems only proper. And my kitchens will be an eager customer.” He took more red cabbage and apple. “Superb. How long before these are available?”

“The Master and merchants promised agents would be at New Hope soon after my return, my Emperor. But you need not wait.”

The presentation case she had had made for him was even finer than the one for the Master, carved with its matching bowls from the Islands’ distinctive _kaya_ wood ; the lidded bowls were so thin they were translucent, the perfectly concentric growth-rings serving as measures of how full each jar was, and basilisks had petrified them with great care to retain the beautiful golden colour for which the wood was prized. The Emperor examined it reverently, watched by the whole table, and gave Kel a genuine smile as he passed it to his wife.

“A most exquisite gift, Protector. Is there no end to your surprises?”

“Not that I’ve discovered, Daichi.” Jonathan was obviously pleased at the impression the gift had made, but appreciation of irony was still possessing him. “And when you think there _really_ can’t be any more, watch out.”

Dom smiled ruefully, and Kel wisely said nothing.


	5. Offence

**Four : Offence**

_Kiyomizu-dera, 24  March_

 

It wasn’t only Kel’s nephew and nieces who were waiting for her and Tobe at dawn. Besides her Mama, Yuki, and Shinko, all demurely saying Kel’s example had shamed them into proper practice, Patricine was with her children, apologetically explaining that Toshuro’s mother, who selected all her grandchildren’s _sensei_ , had expressed strong disapproval of absurd _gaijin_ innovations and demanded her daughter-in-law deliver a personal report.

“She’s usually not so bad, Kel, but dealing with a _gaijin_ daughter-in-law uses up most of her flexibility, and she’s getting grumpy with age. She was carrying on about how upset Chiyoko- _sensei_ would be to have her teaching undermined, so it was easier to say I’d come.” Patricine had become far too Yamani to grimace, but her eyes did it for her. “Though actually it’s more the spidrens. She finds them difficult to cope with, and rather resents me for minding them less than she does. Akiko saying Kravimal- _sama_ had been full of your praises was the last straw, I think.”

“Mmm. I’d gathered some of that from Akemi and Katsumi yesterday, and that Chiyoko- _sensei_ is a rather rigid teacher. Never lose your weapon is one thing, but never innovate is another. So I sent Hayato- _sensei_ a note mentioning the problem, and asking if she might bring Chiyoko- _sensei_ to see for herself why a one-handed grip can be useful, if you have the strength to manage it.”

“Kel, you didn’t!” Patricine’s laugh held surprise and even shock. “She’s the most frightful stickler for tradition.”

“I didn’t want you and Toshuro caught in the middle. And it’s only proper Chiyoko- _sensei_ make any protests to the person responsible.”

“Are you protecting me from my mother-in-law, little sister?”

“If she is, Patricine, I should let her get on with it.” Ilane’s voice was very dry. “You didn’t see Kel admonishing Grandma Seabeth, did you, but you certainly enjoyed the results. Wouldn’t they be worth replicating?”

“Keladry- _chan_ was excellent with Duchess Wilina also,” Yuki blandly agreed, “although she was being most rude.”

“She was just worried, Yuki, not unreasonably.”

“I know, Keladry- _chan_ , but while she didn’t stop being worried she did stop being rude.”

“It works on grumpy old men too.” Shinko was still sounding demure, but Kel could hear her amusement. “My esteemed father-in-law has a speech he makes quite often about Keladry- _chan_ so very improbably winning over Lord Wyldon and Duke Turomot, as well as most of his Council, and how he hates to think who will be next.”

Kel’s muttered comment that Jonathan should try it himself rather than grumbling wasn’t muttered enough, and Shinko flashed a smile.

“But you are so much better at it, Keladry- _chan_ , so he delegates.”

“Pfui.”

“No, truly. He thought you did extremely well with my esteemed uncle and aunt last night.”

“He wasn’t there for the really interesting bit, Cricket. Your aunt spoke directly, and didn’t clutter everything with needless honorifics, either. We were right, by the way — the dream, yes, but nothing more, so they’ve no more idea what Lord Sakuyo wants than anyone else.”

“She did?” Shinko was taken aback. “She must approve of you _very_ strongly.”

“She understands it’s all about protecting the children, Cricket, so if she does it’s mutual.”

Their arrival at the Guards’ Compound cut off discussion, and Kel suppressed a curse. There were even more spectators than yesterday, falling silent as they saw her, and the sour-faced old woman standing with Hayato- _sensei_ and others from the Temple of Weapons was already looking thoroughly disapproving. Kravimal came to greet them, and she found her humour restored by how much more easily the children spoke to him than they had been able to manage the day before. She saw Patricine notice too, as they made their way towards the gathered _sensei_ , but her sister’s face had acquired a set look and Kel wondered just how much trouble Chiyoko- _sensei_ had already been.

Hayato was extremely correct in making the introductions, with Shinko and her Mama properly preceding Kel, though her eyes suggested a certain anticipation. Kel had been hoping for a polite discussion, but when Chiyoko cut off Hayato’s introduction of Tobe to declare that no one-handed _gaijin_ affront to the proper code of the _naginata_ could be acceptable she gave it up as a lost cause.

“How interesting that you think so, Chiyoko- _sensei_. My son, Blessed Tobeis of Mindelan and New Hope.”

Sensitive to her changed mood, Tobe gave an exquisitely correct bow, combining his noble status, blessedness, and imperial friendship with acknowledgement of age and mastery. About to dismiss him as a child, Chiyoko was forced to return it, and as she came upright Kel took the offensive.

“Of course the code should be honoured, _sensei_ , but forgive me, I understood you teach my nephew and nieces to defend themselves. Is that not so?”

“Of course it is so!”

“Then I fail to understand your assertion, unless you believe they should choose to die rather than use an unorthodox move. Do please explain, _sensei_.”

The old woman glared. “It is unorthodoxy that would leave them vulnerable — one-handed grips and their blades will be all over the place.”

Though Kel was heartily bored with honorifics, this omission was a wilful provocation. For herself she might have let it go, but it was a jab at Patricine as well, and even Shinko and her Mama. It also echoed Lord Shoji.

“Like your manners, _sensei_?” In the abrupt silence Kel stepped back, swiftly lifting her glaive one-handed. “But no matter — allowance must be made for age. Now, is my blade all over the place?”

As it was rock-steady less than a foot from the old woman’s nose, even she was given some pause.

“No. Blessed.” The word was ground out. “But to do that takes great strength.”

“Not so, _sensei_. Strength, yes, but nothing that cannot be developed. Hajikoru’s slow dances will take care of it.” She rested her glaive at her side. “And I do not advocate one-handed use on foot save in exceptional circumstances. Setting aside yesterday’s experiment with Kravimal- _sama_ , I believe I have only used my _naginata_ so twice, both times in mêlées, to kill Scanran axemen who had someone else down and were beginning a death-stroke yet outside my two-handed range. Should I have let those under my command die rather than employ unorthodoxy?”

“You _should_ have been better positioned, Blessed.”

Kel swallowed irritation, merely raising her eyebrows. “Another interesting view. Tell me, have you ever fought in a mêlée, _sensei_? Ten or twelve against fifteen to twenty, on a trail with thick woods on either side?”

Chiyoko might be rude and stubborn but she wasn’t a liar. “I have not, Blessed.”

“Or had to fight for your life in any confined space, against multiple opponents with mixed arms?”

“No.”

“Then your misjudgement is understandable, _sensei_ , if not your presumption in making it, knowing yourself ignorant.” Yamani breaths hissed, more, Kel thought, in appreciation than shock. “But all this is beside the point. You agree that the purpose of teaching my nephew and nieces is so that they can defend themselves at need. And such a need is most likely to arise in travelling, yes? Against bandits or _ronin_?”

That was common sense, and Chiyoko shrugged. “Probably, yes. Blessed.”

“When they will also most probably be mounted — and it is that which interested them, _sensei_ , for as even you must concede, to attempt two-handed use by code on horseback would not answer.”

That won a grudging nod. “Perhaps not, Blessed, but I cannot see that one-handed use could do more than delay the inevitable.”

“Can you not, _sensei_? Then let us remedy this unfortunate deficiency.”

The Guards’ Compound was in a back corner of the Daidairi, at the northern edge of the city, with the imperial stables and open fields immediately behind, and as Kel had anticipated the need for a mounted display in her note to Hayako, saddled horses were waiting for her and four of the mortal samurai guards. She dearly wished she had Alder or Hoshi, but the bay gelding she’d been assigned looked a fine horse, up to her weight if somewhat smaller than Alder, and Tobe came with her to introduce himself, stroking the muzzle eagerly thrust at him.

“He’s a good one, Ma, and wants to do well for you, but he’ll need clear commands, reins _and_ foot pressure, to know what you want.”

Mindful of Dom’s admonitions, Kel had also asked for half-armour and a blunt practice glaive, and after Tobe had strapped on the breast- and backplates she spent a few moments refamiliarising herself with the distinctive Yamani war-saddle, with a lower pommel and cantle than she had become used to. Once mounted, she also took time to settle to the gelding, until she knew just how much pressure was needed to make him canter or gallop, slow or stop, turn or pivot ; the exercise warmed her own muscles. Finally, she took the practice glaive from an approving Tobe and trotted over to where the samurai guards, at her request also armoured and bearing practice weapons, waited politely in line abreast.

“Gentlemen, please imagine that you are the most nefarious _ronin_ , with designs on my purse and my virtue — the survivors of an assault that has killed my guards and left me only my _naginata_ and my wits.” They grinned at her, and she grinned back. “Should you receive a blow that with a live blade would kill or disable, kindly count yourselves out of it.” They nodded. “So, how will you proceed?”

Kel had fought mounted Scanrans so often that she hadn’t bothered to make any special plans, but they made it easy for her. A barked command from the sergeant among the central pair had the outer two moving a few steps wider, to cut off any escape, but as soon as their horses’ heads were turned and their weight committed she dug in her heels and the gelding responded, surging to a gallop aimed directly between the sergeant and his flanker. It was the last thing they’d expected, and with the horse’s sudden speed, the straight thrust of her _naginata_ , held far lower on the shaft than the day before, was inside the sergeant’s guard before he knew it, striking him low on the breast-plate, over his gut. The _naginata_ was no lance, with the spring to pop a man free of his saddle, but the low cantle of the Yamani design gave little support and he was lifted over it to his horse’s cruppers, sliding into a fall ; her _naginata_ was already swinging in an arc over her gelding’s head to slam into the flanker’s far side from an angle he couldn’t hope to defend. As her weight shifted with the swing, one heel dug in and her left hand hauled on the reins, bringing the gelding round in a sharp turn that brought her from behind onto the man who’d gone wider to the left while he was still trying to turn but finding himself blocked by the flanker’s startled mount. Her blade cracked into his backplate, knocking him forward and sideways, and a tight curve, brushing his horse aside and dismounting him, brought her towards the last man.

His shock was clear on his features but he was no fool, and had had time to turn to face her properly. Switching her _naginata_ to her left hand and her grip to the balance-point she came in on his unarmed side, forcing him to fight across his own body, and though he blocked two quick strikes he was unprepared for the rotation she put on the second, twisting her wrist so her blade pivoted over his _katana_ and came to rest at his throat. The whole thing had taken less than twenty seconds. She lifted the _naginata_ away, and surveyed the fallen men.

“Alas, no purse for you today, but my warm thanks for your aid.”

Her seated bow was returned by all, if rather shakily by the obviously winded sergeant, who followed it with a samurai salute, open hand over heart.

“And ours for your instruction, Blessed Protector- _sensei_.” His voice was wheezy and he shook his head a little. “I would not have believed it possible, though I saw your speed yesterday against Kravimal- _sama_. And to ride at us so directly …”

“Our warhorses are larger than yours, and Scanrans often mounted only on ponies. Sheer weight can shoulder one aside, and on narrow trails it is a necessary tactic, _santougunsu-san_. You need to bunch, concentrating attack rather than spreading to prevent escape, for no matter what my grip I cannot defend against simultaneous blows.” She lowered her voice. “But if you will excuse me, I must speak to Chiyoko- _sensei_ while the lesson is hot.”

Still wheezing, he waved acknowledgement, and she cantered across to the only spectators among the silent throng she cared about, dismounting and thanking the gelding, who slobbered liking on her shoulder, before relinquishing him to a bowing groom. Shinko’s eyes were merry, Hayato’s approving and amused, Chiyoko’s shocked, the children’s shining with a worship that made her shudder, and she knelt to let Tobe unbuckle and lift off her half-armour before standing, straightening her tunic, and meeting the old woman’s gaze directly.

“Has your sight improved, _sensei_?”

“It has, Blessed.” Chiyoko drew a deep breath. “No true _sensei_ can ignore plain facts, and much as it galls me I cannot pretend I could have done that, nor that in such a strait it should not be tried, however such should best be avoided. The slow dances for the strength, you said?”

“Yes, _sensei_ , at first holding at the balance point, then slowly extending. Some simple weights, also, and work on the wrist. And on riding, of course — a properly trained horse is most helpful, and a nervous one a danger. My own will duck their heads when they feel my weight shift, so I need not arc the _naginata_ so much in the cross-sweep, and while it is true they have the blessing of the Godborn, my Lord of Cavall has found it possible to train his colts to the move.”

Hayato and other _sensei_ were nodding.

“We need yet another new field of styles, Blessed, for the grip and integrating horses. It is most interesting, and fearsomely effective — even with armour all four would have been seriously wounded.”

“Killed, Hayato- _sensei_. Here I was _aiming_ for the armour. In a real fight I would have aimed under the sergeant’s breastplate, to gut him, and under the backplates of the next two, angling in for the spine. The last would have lost his head. We were almost always outnumbered by the Scanrans, you see, so killing blows were most necessary.” She turned back to Chiyoko, conscious of the spreading ripple her blunt words had caused. “And that is the root of it, _sensei_. I earnestly hope my nephew and nieces will _never_ need to follow such a path, but none can guarantee that, and if they do face the necessity code alone, wonderful as it is, cannot be enough. Of course they must know it, and all that is traditional, but as a foundation, not an end in itself.”

The old woman nodded briefly. “Your lessons are harsh ones, Blessed.”

Kel risked the kind of Yamani smile that only showed in the eyes. “What Naruko- _sensei_ did not beat into me, war did. You will work with the children, _sensei_?”

“I will, Blessed.”

“And tell the dowager Lady noh Akaneru you do so in good heart?”

Miraculously, that won a sudden, gap-toothed smile.

“Indeed. The terrible old women will be well-behaved.”

“The terrible young one also, _sensei_.”

“How disappointing.”

Kel gave her a frank grin, and, turning, dropped to one knee, summoning Akimi, Katsumi, and Akiko.

“Chiyoko- _sensei_ will work with you all on these new skills, but there are dues you must pay. She is quite right that your sense of point will suffer, badly, as you try any new grip, so you must _always_ use practice weapons when you do so until she allows otherwise. And however you may be taught in riding, the same, or you will kill your mounts. The slow dances will also exasperate you, and leave your muscles aching most horribly, and there is no short-cut. But the rewards of perseverance are great. Make me proud, all of you?”

Their promises were fervent and sincere, and, rising, Kel found Chiyoko’s eyes held a new respect, though for what she wasn’t sure ; but Hayato had words to say as well.

“This will be a formal enquiry of the Temple, Blessed, and an urgent one. We must also consider training and the proper ages for each stage that is developed.” Her gaze switched to Patricine. “Lady noh Akaneru, might you and your husband be willing for the children to participate? I will be involved, with Hisashi- _sensei_ and others.”

Hisashi was in the surrounding group, and came forward, bowing.

“There would be no additional charge, of course, my Lady, and it might well be the children would be owed. Certainly they would earn the Temple’s goodwill and gratitude.”

Patricine curtsied back. “I cannot of course speak for my husband, _sensei_ , but I would be astonished if he were not delighted to agree.”

“Should he have doubts, my Lady, I will be happy to wait upon him to seek to assuage them.”

 _That_ was high patronage, and Patricine gave another curtsey, her eyes alight.

“It will be my honour so to inform him, Hisashi- _sensei_. You bless us.”

“Say rather that your most esteemed and intriguing sister blesses us all, my Lady. I was sadly sunk in boredom, supposing my mastery complete, and she has shown me how foolish I was. I will not make her blush further, delightful as it is to do so, but be assured, my Lady, that your agreement, and your husband’s, will bless us, and richly so. Already the Temple is more wide awake than I can recall, and fruitless divisions between _sensei_ most comprehensively bridged.”

Kel didn’t know where to look, and found herself trying to decipher the complex look in her Mama’s eyes. Yuki and Shinko had also acquired wide-eyed gazes that unsettled her, and the children’s remained as disconcertingly worshipful as ever. But as they made their way back to the Dower House it was Akiko who tugged her sleeve.

“Keladry- _oba_ , how do you make things happen so?”

“Do I, Akiko- _chan_?”

“You do, _oba_. _Nothing_ convinces Chiyoko- _sensei_ of anything, but you have bent her into a hoop, yet left her thanking you for your lesson. How?”

Kel had no ready answer, but a listening Tobe leant in.

“It’s what Ma does, Akiko- _chan_.” Their age difference was just enough to allow the endearment, and Akiko didn’t mind. “She commands, and people jump. It puzzles her as well as them, but you’ve only to look at the results to see why. Don’t worry about ‘how’ — even the gods have given up on that, I think.”

Kel spluttered a denial but no-one took any notice, least of all the children.

* * * * *

Though Kiyomizu-dera was less than two miles from the city boundary as the crow flies, it was the better part of two thousand feet higher, on a spur of Mount Otawasan, and a twisty eight miles on foot. Jonathan and Thayet were coming, partly as a political gesture but more because both understood how important Ilane’s defence of the swords had been in making the treaty possible, and were genuinely curious to see the place they’d heard so much about. Prince Eitaro was therefore escorting the party, with Kravimal’s troop and a score of samurai guards, but other logistics took a little sorting out. The adult basilisks and Kuriaju wanted to see a quarry some miles west of the city, the only source of a distinctive green stone that Yamani mages said held magic almost as well as black opals, and Ventriaju would go with his uncle. Alanna and Neal were interested too, so Keiichi would go to translate, and Yuki wanted as much time with her brother as she could manage, while Roald and Shinko were visiting her cousins on her less imperial father’s side. Both Kitten and Amiir’aan wanted to come to Kiyomizu-dera, however, and neither could easily keep up with the horses during the necessary climb. Kitten didn’t in the least mind riding in front of Kel, who was pleased to find she had the same bay gelding, with a proper holder for her _naginata_  ; Amiir’aan was far less at ease riding, but eventually clung rather awkwardly in front of Tobe, on a piebald gelding that would have been too big for him were it not for his horse magic. Cloestra and Amourta were also coming, Cloestra saying that she remembered the temple being built and would like to see how it was faring, but they could fly themselves.

The day was fine and sunny, though the air was cool and would get more so as they climbed. Their route took them west on Konoe-oji, out of the city through a side-gate on Higashikyógoku-oji, and through cherry groves still short of blossoming down to a wide stone bridge over the River Kamo, then along its further bank for a mile before beginning a series of switchbacks up the flank of Otawasan. At first Kel was content to ride mostly in silence, enjoying the clean air and absence of city noise, and answering Kitten’s occasional questions about birds she didn’t recognise ; but after a steep and narrow section, taking advantage of a gulley cut by a tumbling stream, vegetation began to change with altitude and as the path broadened again she dropped back to ride by Dom and Tobe, and pointed.

“White pines, love. You thought all those trees in Yamani landscapes had to be artistic licence, but there they are, just as gnarled and layered as they ought to be.”

“So they are. And looking so artistically arranged. It makes me feel like I’m in one of those paintings.”

“Closer than you’d think. I bet the route was chosen for beauty as much as what was practical.”

“But it’s an old path, isn’t it, Ma? Wouldn’t the trees have all changed since it was made?”

“Some, yes, but the trees are old too, Tobe. The mature pines could easily be older than the city. There’s certainly one in the outer court of Kiyomizu-dera that was fully grown before they built the temple round it.” She grinned. “It has a branch I always wanted to climb onto when we came up here, but it wasn’t allowed.”

Dom frowned. “I thought Conal had put you off tree-climbing before you came here.”

“He had, but it’s a low branch. The great balcony is another story altogether. I’ll be curious to see how high it really is — it seemed like miles but it’s probably forty or fifty feet.”

“A balcony?”

“Or terrace. It’s built out on pillars. They used to say that if you jumped off and survived, you’d have seven years’ good luck, but they stopped that after someone important managed to land on his head.”

They had bunched slightly on the trail, and ahead of them her father turned in his saddle.

“Quite right, my dear, not long before we arrived. Lord Yasuhiro noh Suzuki, who had been a rather successful commander against Jindazhen raids. His Imperial Majesty was most upset, by all accounts, and though I don’t think jumping is exactly forbidden, it’s certainly discouraged.”

“How high is it, Papa?”

“Four and some jo, I believe.”

_Jumping down a mountain for luck seems very silly._

“I agree, Skysong, but most people who tried it survived, I gather, and once someone does such a thing it tends to acquire a life of its own.”

Kitten was unimpressed. _But why should anyone think that surviving a stupid risk would bring them good luck? Wouldn’t it use up any good luck they had? Dragons are more sensible._

“Mmm. I don’t disagree, Kit, but Papa has a point. Why anyone would think touching that outcrop of finstone I dropped on those mages would bring them luck I can’t imagine, but they do. Uinse was complaining about how muddy their boots get crossing the sough and I was wondering what to do about that before we all got summoned here.”

 _Do they, Kel? I had not noticed that._ Her mindvoice became thoughtful. _I don’t think dragons believe in luck at all, though. It is a mortal idea. I must ask Grandsire._

Another steeper section broke up the conversation, but above that was a rest area for pilgrims, with a fine view over the city, and Prince Eitaro had pulled up to show it to Jonathan and Thayet. When they moved on Kel, Dom, and Tobe took their places, and Dom whistled.

“Gods, the city really is symmetrical. Except that one park.”

The oblong grid gleamed in the sunlight, the inset square of the Daidairi and the length of Suzaku-oji bisecting it perfectly. The parks bracketing the Rajomon gate and in the block above Shichijo-oji were also paired, but on the eastern edge of the Daidairi, between Nijo-oji and Sanjo-oji, was another that had no pair.

“ _Sorei_ , the place of ancestral spirits. We passed it, love, but we haven’t been taken there because it’s where ashes are scattered after cremations. Funerals are public, like the one Cloestra and Amourta went to, but scatterings are strictly family business.”

“Huh. Is there a reason?”

“You’ll have to ask Papa. I think it has to do with ritual or ordered suicides, _seppuku_ , and the family’s claim on the body but not the life. And the asymmetry has a reason too, a geomancy about offsetting the Temple District on the other side or some such.”

“How odd. Do you know where all that kind of thinking came from?”

“Jindahzen, I believe, but centuries ago, and the Yamanis added all sorts of things of their own. The Islands are so mountainous and harsh in winter that they bred some quite strange ideas about propitiating the gods. And imperial unification took ages, so there’s a lot of regional variation too.” Kel’s voice became wistful. “We were tied to the Daidairi, so we never got to travel except with the Emperor. There are some fire-mountains up north I always longed to see, but never did.”

_Are they not very dangerous, Kel?_

“They are, Kit, but they sounded truly spectacular when they erupt. Wouldn’t you like to see a mountain’s fire, even hotter than yours?”

“The rocks glow white hot, I’ve read, and some are thrown high in the air while others flow like water.”

_It does sound interesting._

“It sounds terrifying, Kit.” Dom grinned at the dragonet. “Not that that would stop Kel, eh?”

“You don’t go close.” Kel shook her head. “That _would_ be silly. But there are observatories on nearby peaks. I seem to recall hearing about a poetry party some lord held there during one eruption, with _haiku_ composed during the time it took one rock thrown high to fall.”

Some pithy discussion of the sheer weirdness of Yamani ideas about poetry and fitful illumination took them on through a long stretch where the trail was shadowed by a huge stand of red pines, straighter than their white kin, and across a saddle towards the spur on which Kiyomizu-dera stood. At one turn the terrace with its towering support pillars was clearly visible and it was Tobe’s turn to whistle.

“People jumped down _that_ for luck?”

“They did, Tobe. That’s the one alright.”

“Then I agree with Kit — it’s a really silly idea.”

Kel laughed. “Yes it is. But mortals _have_ all sorts of silly ideas, or hadn’t you noticed? And at least that one only harms anyone who actually does it. The ones I really hate are the ones like the Cult of the Gentle Mother, a lot sillier but harming women everywhere.”

That discussion took them further, through dense stands of mixed pine that deliberately bocked all views of the Temple, so that when the final rise curled back on itself and led into the cleared space before the main hall of the Temple and its accompanying pagoda the sudden view came as a shock.

_Is that the tree you wanted to climb, Kel? And why does that building have three rooves?_

“Yes it is. And one to keep out rain, one for hail, and one for snow.”

There was a ruminative pause while they all dismounted, letting waiting monks take the horses.

_That makes no sense at all._

“It’s what they say, Kit. But hush now a moment — we have to make our devotions to Lord Sakuyo. Do you want to come or wait outside for Cloestra and Amourta?”

_He is less annoying than most gods, and has never ignored me, so I will come in._

“Fair enough. There’s the shrine to the swords, but also a shrine around a double spring that newly-weds drink from for luck.” Kel glanced at Dom. “I think we’d still qualify, love.”

“I’m game, though I don’t know that we need any more luck than we’ve already had.”

That was a sobering thought, and Kel’s mind was clear and grateful as they followed Prince Eitaro, the royals, and her parents into the magnificent Temple buildings. She had no intention of upstaging anyone, least of all her Mama, and found herself distinctly cross when the chief _kamunushi_ of the Temple, new since her last visit and obviously in receipt of a report of some kind from Lord Kiyomori, offered her parents only rote greetings before surging towards her with an escort of elders. The tumble of curious praise and half-suspicious interrogation could not be stopped, but once it slowed she drew herself up, glaive planted at her side, and fixed the chief _kamunushi_ with a look that a considerable number of dead people would have recognised.

“Your praises are of course most delightful, Reverence, but what you make of Lord Sakuyo’s jest at Lord Hidetaki’s expense is entirely between you and the High One. And do you not realise that without the woman you have just brushed aside you would have no swords to guard, and Lord Sakuyo would never have noticed me at all?”

His confusion drew from her a blunt explanation that had her Mama blushing behind her _shukusen_ and the _kamunushi_ almost incoherent with apologies, as well as on his knees. Still irate, Kel saw Prince Eitaro and her Papa suppress grins as she unceremoniously hauled the man up.

“Don’t grovel, Reverence, please. It’s unbecoming. And it isn’t me to whom you owe apologies.”

Given that his subsequent attention to her Mama was interspersed with backward glances at her, she wasn’t convinced her rude show of temper had done much good, but at least he hadn’t dared object when she brought her glaive within the Shrine of the Swords, explaining that she wished to acquaint it with the weapons that had first inspired her. In truth she just felt uneasy about going unarmed, for no reason she could pin down, but the Shrine soothed her, for all its memories, and the attendant lady pleased her greatly by greeting her Mama with profound respect and reciting a chant of how the Swords had been saved by a most honoured _gaijin_ whose skill with the _naginata_ passed all belief.

“I do believe they’ve muddled us up, sweeting.”

“No they haven’t, Mama.” Kel cocked her head, remembering. “Maybe Lord Sakuyo was lending a hand, but you surpassed yourself that day.”

“Did I? I couldn’t save poor Aiko noh Takanuji.”

“Lady Aiko. That’s right. I remembered noh Takanuji, but I’d forgotten her first name. It came up with Anders last year.” She regarded her Mama with infinite love. “He passed it on to the King for his speech at my creation, the wretch — and I’ve still to get him for that — but you do know he was quite right? I’ve always been trying to save the swords myself, and never been able to match you.”

Ilane looked perplexed. “But sweeting, you _have_ surpassed me in every way. What happened here was only a skirmish, and those few Scanrans who made it in were already exhausted from the climb and fighting the _kamunushi_.”

Kel had never thought of it that way, and took time to do so before shaking her head firmly.

“That’s you being compulsively modest, Mama. This is hindsight, but you’d only been learning the _naginata_ properly for a year or two, and you took down nine Scanrans in two minutes. And I know _exactly_ what fighting with _naginata_ against axes means.”

Ilane also considered, her hand seeking her husband’s.

“You know, sweeting, _me_ being compulsively modest is one of your sillier ideas, but my greatest regret has always been that I couldn’t protect you better than pushing you behind me. You were _drenched_ in blood afterwards, and you never seemed to mind, but I _hated_ it. No-one so young should have to endure that.”

“Now there we’re agreed, Mama, but I honestly don’t think it did me any harm. If it had been your blood, the way so many orphans at New Hope saw their parents killed, I think I’d be screaming still. But it wasn’t, and I can still hear the string of orders you gave the samurai sergeant who burst in when it was all over, saying the swords were safe and he should get aid to the injured at once. He did, too, for all he was bewildered.”

“So he did. I’d forgotten that, sweeting. Isn’t memory odd?”

“Gods be thanked.”

That thought subdued them both, and took them from the Shrine of the Swords to the Shrine of the Two Springs, where she and Dom did drink for its blessing, however humbly. She hadn’t been at all certain Lord Sakuyo was watching, but as the ice-cold water slipped down her throat a sense of foreboding filled her, with an utter conviction that someone meant them dire harm, and was close by. Suppressing another curse, she told Tobe to keep Kitten and Amiir’aan well behind her and Dom, and after a brief internal debate stepped to Prince Eitaro’s side and told him she had a premonition of danger. Jonathan and Thayet looked at her with narrowed eyes, but though Eitaro blinked he didn’t quibble.

“Here, Keladry- _chan_? Even for Michizane, that would be impious.”

“I may be mistaken, my Prince, and hope I am, but if the High One truly bothered to warn me, I must believe someone so far into wrong that his Temple is no protection.”

He nodded, and gave instructions to the senior samurai in attendance, Kravimal and his troop having remained outside. Her Papa and Mama gave her worried looks, but she had no chance to explain as the guards tightened their pattern. She dropped back to Dom and Kitten.

“You don’t know what the threat is, love?”

“No. But something bad.”

The standard route through the Temple took pilgrims straight from the Two Springs to the great balcony, and they emerged from the stairway into its space more like a sally squad than a group of worshippers. Her immediate thought was that it was exposed to fire, but a swift survey showed her that the wings of the Temple blocked the nearer slopes, and not even the godbow could have reached it from anywhere that did have line of sight. Jonathan and Thayet came to her side as she looked out.

“A feeling like on Drachifethe, Keladry, about not crossing first?”

Her denial was instinctive and she had to work out why. “No. That … that was just me, I think, sire. I had the bits but hadn’t put them together properly. This is different. We’ve all been concerned, and if anywhere was safe it should be here. But I think this was a warning from Lord Sakuyo, though I have no idea why he would do that and still not speak directly.”

“Is there anything we should do, Kel?” Thayet was holding Jonathan’s arm.

She shrugged. “Stay back, don’t expose yourselves unnecessarily, stay alert. Be prepared to use magic, sire, if something does happen.”

“Oh, I am, believe me.”

“Good.” A mordant thought came to Kel. “And if it really comes to it, and you’re the targets — which makes no sense, but anyway — remember most people survived jumping off this thing. If you were lowered at full stretch it’d only be about thirty feet, and there’s no quick way down there except jumping.”

“Gods, yes. Alright. Eitaro was telling me about that custom.”

Despite the view, no-one wanted to linger, and though the _kamunushi_ were distressed by the evident change in mood they passed briskly back through the main hall. The first guards out spoke to Kravimal, waiting at the doorway, and by the time Kel emerged in front of Dom and Kitten, her glaive ready in both hands, the spidren troop were facing outward in a wide half-circle. Nothing was obvious, but the surrounding woods were thick, the Temple’s gardens filled with dense stands of flowering bushes and shrubs. It looked so peaceful, and the blended fragrance of water and pines on the cool mountain air was one of the great delights of the place at this season. But Kel’s nerves were screaming, and her eyes raked across the greenery.

_Do you see anything, Kel?_

“Not y — ”

Even as she spoke something glinted where it shouldn’t and instinct brought her _naginata_ whirling down with frantic speed. It bucked in her hand with a ringing _clang_ of metal, the flat slapping Kitten’s snout, and pain seared across her lower leg as her voice rose above Kitten’s squawk and one arm snapped out, pointing.

“Crossbow, there! Get him alive!” And a second later, “Keep guard. It’s not over.”

Kravimal and two other spidrens bounded for the tree-line where the bowman had been, while the rest drew in, tightening their half-circle.

“Kel, you’re bleeding.” Dom’s voice was carefully matter-of-fact, and she glanced down to see him kneeling to look at her leg. The blade of her _naginata_ had deflected the bolt, leaving a thin score in the metal, to slice across her calf and bury itself in the wooden floor just inside the doorway. “It’s not bad but needs cleaning and bandaging.”

“It’ll have to wait.”

“Give me a handkerchief.”

One part of her mind was amused as she kept still to let him knot it around the deepest part of the gash ; the rest was anything but, and a white rage was filling her. That bolt had been meant to kill, and the target had been Kitten.

“Kit, are you alright?”

_My nose is bruised and I was knocked backwards, but I am not injured._

The dragonet’s mindvoice had a quaver, and Kel’s rage grew. “Good. I’m sorry about the bruise. Stay back, please, and you, Amiir’aan. It might be Kit specifically they’re after, or any immortal or youngling.”

She only half-heard the basilisk’s agreement as her gaze snapped up at the sound of claws on tile, to Cloestra on the highest pagoda roof.

“Armed men out of the trees come up the last rise, Protector. Two score.”

“Thank you. They may have more crossbows, so stay high.”

“Only swords, I think, but I have told Amourta to keep her height.”

“Good.”

Kel had no right of command, but the senior guard had heard and his men had already drawn, flanking the spidrens who remained. Cloestra’s warning had given them a direction, and the men who began to enter from the trail a moment later faced a ring of steel — but Kel’s heart sank at the sight of them. They were _ronin_ , not only fully armed but half-armoured, with grim purpose on their faces and a worrying discipline in their movements ; nor had Cloestra’s count been wrong — Kel reckoned forty-three and a captain, who pushed through to within ten feet of the guards. His voice was a harsh shout, aimed at Prince Eitaro.

“No harm is meant you or the _gaijin_ rulers, Prince. Our business is the immortal who claims to be a dragon. Surrender it and we withdraw with no blow struck.”

“Lady Skysong is under His Imperial Majesty’s protection, and you are all traitors.”

“So you think, but you are outnumbered. Surrender the beast or all may die.”

“Never.”

“So be it, then.”

And with his last word the _ronin_ launched themselves forwards in a flurry of blades. For a long moment samurai and spidrens held them, but Kel had not been wrong about the discipline. Responding to barked commands, two men threw themselves at the spidren furthest to her left, dying on its glaive blades but bearing it down with their dead weights, unable to defend itself as a third struck at its head. The line was breached, and a wedge of _ronin_ immediately pushed through ; two-thirds of the samurai and all the remaining spidrens were forced back around the Prince, the royals, and her parents, with perhaps sixteen men containing them while as many, led by the captain, drove the other six samurai back towards her.

Not going forward to fight alongside them was as hard as anything Kel had ever done, but they were trained to one another’s habits, and _naginata_ against multiple opponents with paired swords would more likely see her dead and Kitten left undefended than gain much. As one and then another samurai fell, forcing the others still further in, she did take opportunities to jab between two of them with her _naginata_ held one-handed, only wounding but distracting emough to allow fatal _katana_ strikes. She couldn’t see clearly, but it was evident Jonathan had the same problem, and though the balls of magic he was arcing over his defenders heads were causing shouts of pain, he couldn’t aim them. Her attention snapped back as the rearmost of the _ronin_ attacking her own defenders, with no room to come at an opponent, was taken out by Cloestra, gliding silently down to seize his head in outstretched claws and yank him off his feet. Even through the clash of steel Kel heard his neck snap, and Cloestra dropped the corpse, flapping into a steep, banking climb.

Maybe half the _ronin_ in the group attacking her were down, but then two samurai fell in close succession, and she had no choices left. A last one-handed thrust sliced across a _ronin_ ’s face before she had to draw on all her speed and skill to face three more, with no time for anything but deflections, and only the superior reach of her _naginata_ keeping their short swords out of play. She could hold them, just, but couldn’t prevent them forcing her to step sideways, and she heard the captain order men to push through to the doorway doing so had uncovered. Unable even to glance that way she felt desperation rise as she heard steel clash behind her, and of necessity tried to shift to the offensive, turning a deflection into an unexpected block that had the _ronin_ stumbling, and stepping forward to whip her blade across the second’s throat ; but she knew she had left herself open to the third and despaired, yet as she saw his _katana_ coming towards her in the slowed time of combat the rumble of the rock-spell filled the air, dragonfire lanced past her to drill right through him, armour and all, and Cloestra struck the captain from behind, claws gouging into his eyes. Kel’s _naginata_ swung back to gut the _ronin_ who’d stumbled before he could recover, and with the space around her suddenly cleared she saw Kravimal and the two spidrens who’d been with him charge into the _ronin_ containing the other group from behind, their blades bisecting four and killing another two in little more than a second. As the remainder spun to meet the new threat the surviving samurai pushed out to attack them from behind, Jonathan had a clear line of fire at last, and fiery trails of blue magic began slamming into _ronin_ , who fell like stones. In a moment it was over, and Kel turned to the doorway, heart in mouth.

Dom and Tobe both held bloody swords, but seemed unharmed. Kitten and Amiir’aan were also standing, but both were shaking violently, and she stepped over two _ronin_ with petrified heads to kneel and gather them both in her arms, feeling their frantic grips.

“Shh, shh. It’s over now.” She glanced up at Dom. “Injuries?”

He was breathing heavily but shook his head. “No, love. We’re alright, thanks to Amiir’aan.”

The golden hilt of the sword he held caught her eye, and she flicked a surprised look at Tobe’s shorter blade before meeting Dom’s eyes.

“Are those …?

“Yes they are. The chief _kamunushi_ brought them and we weren’t saying no.”

“Huh.” She was vaguely aware that might have consequences, but first things came first. “Kit, Amiir’aan, are you alright?”

_I killed. I killed._

Kitten’s mindvoice was racked with distress, and Kel had to take her arm from around Amiir’aan to force the dragonet’s head up and look into her whirling eyes.

“Yes, you did, very rightly, or I would have died. Thank you, Skysong.”

_I must tell Grandsire._

“No, Kit. I must speak to him, and I will. You both acted absolutely correctly, and were very brave.”

“I had to protect Skysong. I am elder.” Amiir’aan’s fluting whisper was filled with sorrow. “But I had no wish to hurt anyone.”

“Of course you didn’t, sweeting, either of you. You had no choice.”

And that they hadn’t was a white fire in her mind, returning with renewed force as the shock of combat faded. She heard a swift step and a hand rested on her shoulder.

“Is Kit injured?”

“No, Mama. Just acutely distressed at killing.”

“Gods be thanked.” Ilane knelt, extending a hand to the dragonet. “You were so brave.”

_I had to. I hate it._

“We all do, Kit, but sometimes there is no choice at all. And however awful it feels, it’s better than being dead.”

The dragonet said nothing but the worst of her trembling slowly eased, and after a moment Kel managed to pass her to Tobe, who had knelt to put his own arm around Amiir’aan. She gave him a straight look.

“Are you alright, Tobe?”

“Scared and angry, but alright, Ma. Who _were_ those men?”

“ _Ronin_ by their look, so someone gave them orders. And we have to find out who.”

But it would be a nightmare of an investigation, as Kel realised when she stood, suddenly aware again of the pain from her gashed leg. Three spidrens had died, two more had lost limbs or suffered body wounds, and more than half of the samurai guard lay unmoving while few were unscathed ; but the _ronin_ looked to have died to a man, and there would be no testimony from them. Her eyes found Kravimal’s.

“The younglings are alright, Protector?”

“Yes. Deeply shocked but not injured. The assassin?”

“Trussed where we left him, I hope, though the sound of fighting made us rush.” His eyes narrowed. “One try by stealth, backed up with blunt force. And these were not just hired men, I think, though we gave them little chance to surrender. We must try to trace their orders.”

She nodded. “If we can, Kravimal. There is much to answer for. I’m so sorry for your dead.”

“I too, but they died well.” His face tightened. “I doubt if those truly responsible can be made to answer, though. There will have been many layers of secrecy.”

Prince Eitaro, striding towards them with shock and rage on his face, heard the last of this and nodded as he came to a fuming halt.

“Too true, Kravimal- _sama_. A grain to a bushel the orders came from Michizane noh Fujiwara, and I’ll lay odds that captain was a westerner from his lands, but we’ll never get evidence of it.”

Within Kel’s own shock and rage thoughts a dozen scattered thoughts spun into abrupt alignment.

“Oh yes we will.”

* * * * *

A busy hour later, Kel was back on the great balcony, staring into the distance with her arms round Amiir’aan and Kitten. Cloestra had carried a hasty message from Prince Eitaro to the Daidairi, scrambling healers and replacement guards who were already on their way ; and as Kel and Dom alone were aware, Ebony had spoken to Shale, so St’aara and Var’istaan knew what had happened, and were hurrying back to the city. Another darking message had been sent also, and acknowledged. The wounded had been helped as best they could be, and her own leg was bandaged with clean cloth provided by the Temple ; she had also been relieved to learn that the spidrens’ legs would regrow, in time, though Kravimal said it was a miserable process. The swords of law and duty had been cleaned and restored to their cases, Prince Eitaro warmly commending the chief _kamunushi_ ’s decision they should be used. And the would-be assassin, wrapped as tightly as any fly, had been recovered from the woods, but predictably refused to say anything of interest.

“I am a dead man anyway,” he had said in an utterly toneless voice, “but if I stay silent I die alone. If I speak, my kin will die also.”

Kel hadn’t bothered to argue, knowing it could do no good ; not yet. And thinking through what she intended, if permitted, was taking all the energy she could spare. The dragons’ agreement she was reasonably sure of, but the gods were anyone’s guess and what she wanted might offend many, not least Sakuyo ; but something had to be done, as the still occasionally shivering weights of Kitten and Amiir’aan against her sides told her beyond doubting. Dom and Tobe, her parents, and Jonathan and Thayet were grouped at the railings where Cloestra and Amourta perched, talking among themselves and casting wary glances at her. She was waiting only on Prince Eitaro and Kravimal, who were still attending to the injured while _kamunushi_ dealt with the dead.

At last both came out onto the balcony with the chief _kamunushi_ , grief and anger plain on all three faces, and the others came from the railings to stand around Kel. Even Cloestra and Amourta hopped down to awkward landings. Eitaro came to a halt and offered her a short bow.

“We have done what we can for now, Keladry- _chan_ , until the healers arrive. What is it you wish to be done next?”

She looked up at him, abstractly noting that he took a half-pace back, face paling.

“Justice, my Prince. You say mortal justice will fail in this, and I agree. Those who will kill children to gratify their own ends are cunning, and honest men hamstrung by their lies. But it is not only mortal justice that applies. There is also immortal justice. That crossbow bolt was aimed at Lady Skysong, and though neither she nor Amiir’aan were physically injured, they have taken harm. Dragons and basilisks are owed, and must be paid, or all we strive to build together may fail. The spidrens who died or have been injured defending us must be answered for also, with your samurai who have died this day of another’s treachery and wrong. And then there are the gods. What is needed is beyond us, my prince, but not beyond them.”

Gently she set dragonet and basilisk upright, one on each side of her, hands resting on their shoulders.

“Be without shame now, however distressed.” Kitten was trying to be brave, but her tail drooped and Kel could feel her misery. “Ebony, Button, one to show and one to tell, please.”

The darkings detached themselves from her collar and Dom’s, Ebony staying as a blob and Button distending itself into a sheet on the wooden decking, in which after a few seconds the great heads of Rainbow and Diamondflame appeared. Kel heard breaths hiss, at the darkings and the sight of adult dragons, or the anger she could sense emanating from them, but ignored the distractions.

“My greetings and thanks, my Lords, though I wish it were in happier circumstances. I must tell you that in bringing Lady Skysong to Yaman I have unwittingly placed her in danger, and she has suffered for it. She has survived, but to save me had to use fire to kill, and is sorely distressed. So too is Amiir’aan, son of St’aara and Var’istaan, who also killed, using the rock-spell to save himself and Skysong. And however I must answer to you afterwards for my failings, I need your aid now to pursue justice against those directly responsible for orders to kill Lady Skysong. Will you stay your own judgements to that end?”

The dragons looked at one another for a moment, and Kel had a faint sense of their surprise before Ebony squeaked their reply as loudly as a darking could.

“Rainbow say, no blame to you, they listen.”

Kel didn’t agree, but her own guilt could wait. “Thank you, my Lords.” It made no sense, and he had to be watching in any case, but she looked straight up to the far blue vault of the sky. “Lord Sakuyo, I thank you with all my heart for your warning, yet I fear I must disappoint you. I know not what jest you planned, but whoever ordered Lady Skysong killed must answer for it, though it ruins whatever you plan. And what must be done requires the consent of your brothers Lords Mithros and Weiryn. Do you hear me, Lords of Justice and of the Hunt?”

After a moment of pulsing silence, Ebony acquired a silver tinge.

“War god hears. Horned god hears. Many gods hear.”

Breaths hissed again.

“Then hear my plea, High Ones.”

Step by inexorable step she laid out what had happened and what she wanted done about it, hearing silence deepen around her but driven on by rage, and beneath it guilt at having brought Kit into such danger. She could hear the flatness of her voice, and wept inside at the shivers she saw in many who heard her ; even her Mama and Papa seemed shocked, but there was no help for any of it.

“I realise it may breach many rules, but I cannot see how justice may be served otherwise. If you can, please tell me now. And if you cannot, then you have said to me yourself, Lord Mithros, that contradiction is what gods do, and that I would think of something to ask you for. And this attempt to murder a dragon kit is not to be borne, nor the plot that must underlie it. So how say you, High Ones?”

Kel was watching Ebony, but after a moment Lord Mithros’s familiar and ever surprising voice spoke from the air, that distant fury of battle ringing behind and through it, and she was aware of people kneeling.

“Will the dragons consent to this?”

Rainbow’s and Diamondflame’s heads turned towards one another, but only for a second and Ebony’s squeaked reply came far sooner than she’d expected.

“Dragons say, willing if gods are. Come anyway, for young one.” There was a pause, before Ebony shivered slightly. “Gods argue.”

Kel heard Jonathan’s muttered ‘I bet they do’, but ignored it, her hands stroking Kitten and Amiir’aan, containing rage and impatience, directing an unspoken demand towards the gods. She had enough experience of their inhumanity to be grateful there were some rules they followed ; but also thought that in their nature as gods they failed to understand how mortals could and should be managed, and seemed strangely unable to _deal_ with things that needed to be dealt with. Failing to clear up properly after Uusoae was inexcusable, and if all this really was Lord Fujiwara’s doing, a timely, proper response to the murder of the _kamunushi_ and attempted corruption of her book would have saved the immortals she comforted from the harm they had taken this day. Perhaps it was simple laziness, besetting all the divine realms, not just the Dragonlands, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t do. The wait seemed endless, but probably wasn’t more than a minute.

“We agree, Protector. One change is necessary, but it will not affect your purpose.” Lord Mithros’s voice was quite muted, battlenoise only a murmur, and the thought came to Kel that he was _amused_ by all this ; she swallowed rage. “Go then, and work your justice with our blessing.”

“Thank you, my Lord, and all High Ones.” She sought Diamondflame’s gaze in Button’s display. “The darkings will keep you informed, my Lords. I trust to your own sense of timing.”

The great dragon’s eyes took on their own tinge of amusement, and Ebony suddenly gave an utterly unexpected laugh, a tiny yip of pleasure that Kel had never before heard from any darking. She hadn’t known they could laugh, though they enjoyed many things.

“Diamondflame say, funfunfun.”

Kel’s eyes went wide with shock, and Lord Sakuyo did something else useful. That calm that she knew rested beneath his laughter, that was also the calm of her lake, slipped into her like happiness. Her rage was not diminished one jot, but no longer included Mithros’s amusement, which hadn’t been at the suffering but only at her manner of answering it. And grim as things would have to be when the guilty were known, it would be after all a great and terrible jest, in its own way, a sword of duty not unfitting for Lord Sakuyo, despite her fears. Understanding glimmered, but duty came first.

“So.” She rose smoothly to her feet, others rising with her, and turned to face Eitaro. “My Prince, would you of your grace send urgently to His Imperial Majesty, informing him of what will happen and asking him to summon all of sufficient rank, power, and wealth to have given those _ronin_ their wages and orders? Cloestra will carry your word to him.”

His eyes were very wide, but he was nodding. “I will write at once, Blessed Keladry- _chan_. How long do we have?”

“Our time is our own, my Prince. Those who will come travel as fast as they will, and when they will. But I would have those responsible for this facing the Black God’s judges this night.”

He blinked, but turned at once to call for a writing-set, and Kel looked at the Tortallans. Piety and anticipation had replaced shock in her Papa’s eyes, but her Mama’s were unfathomable. Dom looked relieved and resigned, a look she’d seen on his face before when she did something necessary, and Tobe had a fierce, predatory satisfaction, expressing his own rage on Kit’s behalf. What Jonathan and Thayet were thinking she had no idea, but in her new calm could see things she hadn’t considered.

“Sire, you and Thayet have a decision to make.”

“Do we, Keladry?” His voice was very neutral.

“You do. I speak now as your Councillor, sire, one familiar with Yaman. Beyond question, you and Her Majesty have a claim on justice here. You have been inconvenienced, threatened, exposed to harm, and obliged to kill in your own defence ; and are honoured guests under imperial protection. You must consider four things.”

She counted on her fingers, more for his clarity than her own.

“First, though they are tangled together, the justice I pursue cannot be on your behalf. It would be a purely Yamani matter were it not for the juvenile immortals, and specifically Lady Skysong, for whose safety in the mortal realms I am responsible as Guildmaster, and by personal promise to the Godborn. The being to whom I am responsible is Lord Rainbow, and one reason I act is to channel the dragons’ rage at the attempted murder of their kit. But nothing warrants my interference in the matter between you and His Imperial Majesty.”

He and Thayet were listening fiercely, as was her father.

“Therefore, second, it must seem that your claim to justice is at best subordinated to Skysong’s, for so it is. But for me to be a part of that subordination, as your oathsworn noble subject and Councillor, sets a dangerous precedent I have no wish to set. And third, while pursuing your claim in any way can only embarrass His Imperial Majesty, who has failed to protect guests from these harms, public failure to do so while it is implicitly set aside may have consequences. So, fourth, you and Her Majesty should consider withdrawing. A requirement for privacy after such events is eminently reasonable, and Yamanis would work out the true reason swiftly, and approve gratefully. And if all works out as it ought, you and His Imperial Majesty could speak privately afterwards, and settle all to mutual satisfaction with none the wiser.”

The King nodded. “I hear and thank you, Councillor. Piers?”

“My daughter’s analysis is exact, sire. There is an unimpeachable case for the withdrawal of you and Her Majesty, which I doubt you will give even a second’s thought.” Jonathan’s smile flickered, but he waved her Papa on. “And there are countervailing considerations. Kel is right about the dangers of precedent, and were we in Tortall I might think otherwise. But we aren’t, and while you are of course absolute in yourself, you are a guest here, considerate of your host’s needs as well as your own. Kel is also … I was going to say, gods help us, but they are, subjecting His Imperial Majesty’s claims to those of the dragons. He has been affronted by rebellious and criminal subjects, who have doubly offended in assailing his guests. But unless Prince Eitaro was badly mistaken, he is going to say “yes, at once, Protector” several times over without blinking, and by Tortallan mores as well as Yamani you have an obligation as his guest to support him in doing so.”

“So I do, Piers. That’s sharp. And as you’re quite right that I have no intention of withdrawing anywhere, a welcome point.”

“Or there’s this, sire.” Ilane sent a sidelong glance at her daughter. “Kel’s responsibility is not purely personal. It arises from her position as Guildmaster, signatory to the treaty with dragons. But the Guild is a Tortallan entity, formed by law with your explicit permission and recognizance, and its Charter clearly specifies that immortal members, while under treaty, are not your subjects. What Kel is so astonishingly doing is in fact a Guild proceeding, reconciling her multiple duties, and if she invites you and Her Majesty to attend as witnesses, engrossing such claims as you may have with those she properly pursues, I can see no danger in the precedent, only regal propriety.”

“Better and better. Keladry?”

Kel shrugged. “While I answer to Lord Rainbow I cannot answer to you, sire. As justice in my Scanran lands is beyond you, so is immortal justice. I would not by choice ever affront you, but in what remains of this day that choice will be yours, not mine.”

After a moment, he nodded, gravely. “So it will, Keladry. And I daresay I shall have to bite my tongue, so you are not wrong to warn me. I told you once that an honest councillor was worth their weight in gold to any king, and I spoke true. But if your whole career has been a series of affronts, to many things, I have learned to anticipate them with some pleasure. You get things _done_ , Protector, for good and all. It’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying, frankly. Your husband and son are very wise about it, as are the Godborn and Numair. And Alanna, to whose reactions I find myself looking forward.”

Suddenly he gave her a wide grin.

“Like your father, I was going to say gods all bless, but that’s already taken care of. Unbelievably.” He shook his head. “Please don’t involve me or Thayet directly if you can possibly help it. It … seems safer. But otherwise, lead on.”


	6. Justice

**Five : Justice**

_Heian-Kyó, 24 March_

The assembled crowd, voluntary and involuntary, had overflowed the first courtyard of the Daidairi, a hovering Cloestra reported to Kel, and the Emperor had shifted venue to the adjacent _Sorei_. Already crossing the bridge over the Kamo, Kitten silently huddled in front of her, Kel considered the fact.

“An appropriate place.”

Cloestra cackled, Amourta above her joining in slightly uncertainly.

“Oh, I _am_ looking forward to this, Protector. I only wish my queen were here to see it.”

“I think she will be, Cloestra. Ebony passed word to Scarlet, and I asked Diamondflame if he would open the way. They will be needed. And your aid as we fought, beyond duty, is not forgotten.”

After a moment, Kel glanced up to find the stormwing studying her with a curious expression.

“You know, Protector, believing you are purely mortal gets harder and harder. But spare me your gratitude. Good cause to break some necks was not unwelcome after so much peace, and all this excitement has made a rich meal already. Before we are done I expect we will both be glutted.”

From somewhere within her calm Kel smiled serenely. “And welcome. For you to feed on those whom justice demands face the Black God without delay is only right. But your willing aid beyond treaty is not so easily set aside. As a member of the Guild you defended the Guildmaster at personal risk, without any asking you to do so, and it is noted.”

“No claim is made, Protector.”

“Then that too is noted, Cloestra, with the gratitude you so suspect.”

Her answer was another cackle as the stormwings lifted away, Cloestra flipping her tail. As the road widened approaching the gate on Higashikyógoku-oji, Dom and Tobe flanked her, Tobe still holding Amiir’aan before him.

“I know you purely mortal, love, however blessed, but I’m reeling all the same. And I’m worried about that change Lord Mithros said was needed. Do you have any idea what he meant?”

“A dozen, or none.” Kel shrugged ; the gods took you beyond some kinds of caring. “So long as it doesn’t get in the way I don’t mind, and he said it wouldn’t. He’s twisty, often enough, but he doesn’t lie.”

“Nor say who bears what cost.”

Kel didn’t think the costs would be unacceptable, whatever they might be, but saying so earned her a sharp glance from Tobe.

“You say that when you mean they’re on you, Ma.”

“I’ll do what I have to, Tobe. But I meant exactly what I said. Only the guilty will find the cost unacceptable, and if their deaths fall to me I will accept that burden. I hope they won’t, for the Emperor’s sake as well as my own, but they’re going to fall to someone.”

“Shouldn’t immortals execute immortal justice, love?”

“Maybe, but that will be their decision.”

Dom wasn’t happy, but rode on in silence. The delays that had let the Emperor react to Eitaro’s message meant dusk was encroaching as they reached the gate. Flaring torches were already burning, showing a guard that had been been substantially reinforced, and St’aara and Var’istaan were waiting with Alanna. Sweeping Amiir’aan into a brief but hard embrace before passing him to his mother, Var’istaan gave Kel an arresting look as she prepared to dismount.

“Stay mounted, Protector. No apology is needed, and Amiir’aan is safe.” He came alongside her and lowered his snout towards Kitten’s. “And you, Skysong.”

Kel didn’t hear Kit’s reply, but its tone was clear as Var’istaan placed a consoling paw on her shoulder.

“From all I know you did very right and well. To slay enemies and save friends is no shame, and so your grandsire will assure you, very soon.”

They moved on through the gate and Alanna, having spoken to Jonathan and Thayet, fell in on Kel’s other side, giving her a purple-eyed look all of her own that Kel returned steadily.

“I haven’t delayed calling on the gods for help this time, Alanna.”

“So Shale told us while squeaking laughter about something. And I wasn’t going to scold, not that there’d be any point.” She frowned at Kel’s leg. “You seem to have omitted being wounded from your message.”

“The deflected bolt nicked me. It’s nothing.”

“Hmph.” A hand rested on her aching calf, and purple fire probed and eased it. “Not bad, but not nothing, Kel. It’s clean at least.”

“Water from the sacred springs, no less. Where are Neal and Yuki?”

“Looking after babies, with help from a wetnurse. It didn’t sound as if you’d have a chance for a while yet.”

“Ah, thanks — I’d been worrying about that.”

“Well, don’t.” Alanna shook her head. “You’ve got better things to worry about. Darking reports are splendid, and I was betting you’d brought some with you, but can you tell me what Mithros actually said?”

Kel did, and Alanna frowned. “So we have at least one surprise in store. Amid all the others you’re conjuring up. I’m amazed he responded so quickly, Kel. And the dragons.”

“I think he and His Nibs have been waiting for something to break, and I’d warned Diamondflame and Rainbow there might be a threat to Kit before we left the barge, so they’re playing along.”

“You did? Smart of you.”

“Just a precaution I hoped would be needless. But for all Diamondflame’s irony, he and Rainbow are angry, Alanna. Even by darking I could feel it.” Kel leaned down, lowering her voice. “If I hadn’t had that warning from Lord Sakuyo I must suppose, Kit would have been killed, and I think they know that.”

She could almost hear Alanna thinking. “So a god has helped save a kit, this time. A goodwill gesture?”

“Something like that, I think.”

“Gods. Or do I mean dragons?”

“Both. Or we and all Yaman might be finding out what dragons’ rage truly means.”

Kel had been counting soldiers on Konoe-oji, and as they came to the Daidairi wall and turned down Omiya-oji towards _Sorei_ she realised they weren’t only imperial guards. Army units had been deployed, and the cross-streets were blocked by solid ranks, the rearmost facing crowds beyond. The Emperor’s understandable instinct would be maximal control, not wrongly, but there was proper caution and there was locking stable doors after horses had bolted. At the _Sorei_ gate on Nijo-oji she saw a samurai with the insignia of a _rikuguntaisa_ , the most senior field rank below full command, and after dismounting, lifting Kitten down, and relinquishing the bay gelding to a nervous groom, with thanks to both, Kel caught his eye.

“If orders permit, _rikuguntaisa-san_ , please allow as many people to watch as best they can. What takes place here tonight is for the sight of all.”

“I hear you, Blessed, and will ask.”

“Thank you. More importantly, dragons will come soon, bringing other immortal elders who have claims in justice. It will be startling, but none must offer them threat or they may react to it most finally.”

He swallowed. “I hear again, Blessed.”

She left him snapping sensible orders, and took Kitten’s plaintively raised paw as Eitaro led them forward again on foot. _Sorei_ was jammed with people, blazing with both torches and magelights, and as they advanced past scattered trees down the slight slope towards its centre Kel saw that an inner ring of imperial guards and soldiers surrounded a hollow square formed by nobles and magnates who had been summoned. Which might be Lord Fujiwara she had no idea, and no time to look, for the Emperor was descending from a hastily erected daïs to meet Jonathan and Thayet, with a worried Roald and Shinko as well as the Empress and Prince Taikyuu — and Jonathan must have had some sharp advice from her Papa for he went forward himself, to enfold His Imperial Majesty in a brief, unprecedented, and important embrace.

“Daichi, thank the gods you and yours are safe. We feared some attack might have been made on Your person, as on Ours.”

And the Emperor responded, even to mixed pronouns, despite a surprise obvious to Kel’s eyes.

“I am quite safe, Jonathan. But We are mortified Our guests should have been offered such harm.”

“Yet We took none, Daichi, thanks to your superb samurai and Kravimal- _sama’_ s brave troop. I am only sorry they suffered the losses they did.” Jonathan let his tone ripen into evidently controlled anger, projecting his voice for those who understood Common. “But the insults offered Us are as nothing to the risk of the dragons’ rage that whoever ordered this idiocy has courted. Blessed Keladry- _chan_ has contained it by promising swift justice, and all at Kiyomizu-dera heard Lord Mithros agree. So it is Our part now to observe that justice.”

Kel would have given quite a lot to be able to see the look that the Emperor exchanged with Eitaro, but the result, after a long second, was a crisp and gracious nod.

“Indeed so, Jonathan. You and Thayet must sit with Us. But you must excuse me a moment to other duties.”

Kel’s parents were also clear in their greetings to His Imperial Majesty that they were outraged on his behalf, and on Skysong’s, more than their own, her Papa adding that he was most shocked by the gross impiety of offering violence at a shrine. They had some quieter advice as well that she didn’t catch, and stayed with him as she went forward, Kitten at her side, and the basilisks flanking them both. The Emperor gave her a speaking look, and to her considerable surprise knelt to address Kitten.

“Lady Skysong, We are so sorry you have been threatened and distressed. It is inexcusable.”

_I did not want to kill anyone._

“Nor should any so wish, but We are glad you did, in defence of yourself and your friends.”

Still kneeling, he turned to Amiir’aan with a similar apology, and rose to address St’aara and Var’istaan.

“We regret your distress, also. It is poor hospitality to offer, for your child to have been treated so.”

“We have suffered no discourtesy, Imperial Majesty, and though Amiir’aan is young to have to face such things, he has taken no harm.” St’aara’s whisper deepened a little. “Yet the greater threat to Skysong is an affront to dragons the Protector does well to address. And she is _very_ young for the burden she now bears.”

“We know it.” The ambiguity hovered as he at last turned to Kel, glancing at her bandaged leg. “And you have suffered injury, Protector, yet We understand this too must be set aside.”

“It is a minor wound, Your Imperial Majesty, and well cared for.” Kel lowered her voice, changing mode. “But the basilisks are right, my Emperor, for while Lady Skysong is unharmed, however distressed, her grandsire and Lord Rainbow are enraged. I beg your understanding that immortal justice must take precedence over your own.”

“Act as you must, Keladry- _chan_. I will support whatever I can.”

Kel swallowed her sigh of relief. “Prince Eitaro believes the orders for this must have come from a Fujiwara. Do you concur?”

“Yes. But via a vassal or client. He will have been cautious, but I cannot believe any other would have done this. Nor am I sure I understand his intent.”

A part of Kel’s mind had been thinking about that.

“To slay or seize a dragonet under the dragon’s protection, I imagine, and so humiliate you, my Emperor. But the _ronin_ captain spoke of the one ‘who claims to be a dragon’, so his reported disbelief in what Prince Eitaro witnessed at New Hope may have figured also. And if so, that disbelief will very shortly be cured.”

He took a deep breath. “So I understand. If it is Michizane, and so proven, what will happen?”

“Those who are guilty will face the Black God’s judges before I sleep, my Emperor. Nothing less will suffice.” His eyes became very grim, but he nodded. “Is Lord Fujiwara here?”

“Oh yes. In the scarlet robe. His son, however, is said to have left for their estates before my summons came, and I had no cause to command his wife’s or mother’s presence.”

“Absence will not save the guilty. But I should proceed, my Emperor. Delay serves none but them.”

“No. But if it is him, Keladry- _chan_ , he will not suffer arrest quietly.”

“If it comes to that, he won’t have any choice.”

“He has personal troops within the city.”

“The dragons will permit no interference, and brook no further offence. When those orders were given, all passed beyond their giver’s control.” Kel thought he understood intellectually but not emotionally, but that too would soon be cured. “And the gods listen, Lord Sakuyo among them. Justice _will_ be served.”

He studied her for a second, eyes unreadable, and took another deep breath. “So be it, then. Jonathan was right. Is there anything else?”

“One thing, my Emperor. Is there one here known to all for honesty?”

“Honesty?” He frowned. “The poet Isao has never been known to lie, in speech or in his craft.” Kel had been introduced and remembered the face, so she nodded. “Then let us begin. Let me speak to Eitaro a moment, and I will announce you.”

The moment stretched to five, while Eitaro gave orders to a number of samurai who promptly left, though not without some rueful backward glances, and then spoke urgently to his brother. Kel let the tension sing quietly within her, like a drawn bowstring, until the Emperor at last headed back to the temporary daïs, collecting Jonathan and Thayet, who had been earning Kel looks from Roald and Shinko. Alanna dropped back to stand by Dom and Tobe, who had taken Kitten’s paw. Kel’s eyes found the lord in scarlet, tall for a Yamani and thin-faced, staring down at her from the slope ; tensions eddied in those around him, as they had around his son on that first day. It seemed an age ago, but the memory was irrelevant and she let it drift away as a gong sounded and the Emperor spoke.

“Honoured and esteemed guests, lords of Our realm answering Our summons, today has been a black day in this land. Visiting Kiyomizu-dera in piety, Our guests have been assailed by _ronin_. An attempt to kill Lady Skysong by stealth was foiled only by the Blessed Protector- _sensei_ ’s speed and skill, yet in the open attack that followed three of Our spidren guards died, and fourteen samurai, all honour to them and their memories. And now We must abide the consequences. Blessed Protector- _sensei_?”

“Your Imperial Majesty.” Kel projected her voice. “Great as are the offences to His Imperial Majesty, and to His and Her Majesty, still greater offence has been given to dragons and basilisks. Lady Skysong and Amiir’aan, very young among their kinds, have been obliged to kill in their own and others’ defence, and that is a grave matter. Still worse is the attempt to assassinate Lady Skysong ; and all must be answered.”

A scarlet robe moved and she saw Lord Fujiwara’s gaze was on the Emperor, his voice booming above her own, boosted by a mage who stood behind him, a hand on his neck, as Numair had once boosted hers.

“Your Imperial Majesty, I am of course shocked at this news, but yet more that You give way in public to this _gaijin_ woman. She has no authority here and to pretend otherwise shames us all.”

Without thinking, Kel understood he was adapting but not abandoning his plan ; had Kitten been killed it would doubtless have been the Emperor’s incompetence that shamed all. But he was no more than a distraction, yet, and she put the edge into her voice that had carried it across battlefields.

“You err, Lord Fujiwara.” His head snapped round, shocked rage showing at her statement. “For myself I have no authority here at all. But I do not speak for myself. I speak as elected Master of the Craftsbeings’ Guild of New Hope, by sworn word and signed treaty responsible for the wellbeing and safety of its delegates here.” He stepped forward to protest, but in doing so pulled away from the mage’s hand and her voice easily overrode his. “Lady Skysong is a Journeydragon of the Guild, holding that rank and position with the agreement of the Dragonmeet, as Amiir’aan is an apprentice of the Guild, and it is the Guild that convenes this search for justice on her behalf and its own.”

His mage had caught up with him, but if his magnified voice still proclaimed outrage she could hear a new uncertainty beneath it. He also didn’t seem to realise that in turning his attention to her, away from His Imperial Majesty, he undid himself.

“So what, _gaijin_? Your Guild is none of ours, and I recognise no such authority as you claim.”

“Do you not, my Lord? You will.” She still felt Lord Sakuyo’s calm but her own rage was rising, and from a shift in the silence surrounding her voice she knew it had flattened. “For it is to the dragons and basilisks that the guilty must answer. Immortals honour us with their companionship and aid, but their justice is their own.”

He tried for a sneer. “Then let this miniature dragon, if that is indeed what it is, speak for itself, as would be fitting.”

“Oh she will, Lord Fujiwara, when the time comes. But though brave and most precocious, Lady Skysong is not of age even by mortal standards.” From the corner of her eye she saw Kitten tense, snout swivelling and tail extending ; she had trusted dragons’ sense of timing, and her trust was requited. “And as she is an orphan, so it is to her grandsire and eldest ancestor we must answer.”

His sneer gained some strength. “Then let them appear, _gaijin_.”

Whatever he had expected it wasn’t her unintended but compelling laugh, terrible to her own ears even before its echoes came back from the sky with a deeper rumbling in them than her own voice had ever carried. Her arm swung to where space was already distorting.

“And so they do, my Lord.” She saw trees and people seem to tilt, as once on the far bank of the Vassa, and wondered how many dragons were coming. Her voice overrode shouts of alarm. “Hold! Hold! The dragons come in justice, not in war. _Sorei_ accommodates them. Offer no insult.”

The density of the crowd probably did more to keep people in place than her words, but the expansion stopped with perhaps five hundred feet of clear ground having appeared, a great wedge through the crowd, and though those at its edges still seemed to stand on much steeper slopes than there had been they were realising they were unharmed. Displaced air abruptly slapped her face and fluttered clothing as a full dozen dragons snapped into place in a curving rank. Rainbow was in the middle, flanked by Diamondflame and Wingstar, but Jadewing was also there, an immensity of green, presumably as Icefall’s father, and others Kel recognised as parents of dragon apprentices as well as one pearly-white one she did not remember from the Dragonmeet she and Dom had addressed. Magic the colour of Diamondflame’s scales glittered beside him, opening an archway, and the biggest basilisk Kel had ever seen, fully nine feet tall and in proportion, stalked through it from somewhere to stand by Rainbow. The eldest dragon’s multihued magic glittered too, and through its circle Queen Barzha and Lord Hebakh led the Stone Tree Nation, swooping down to perch on every branch sturdy enough to bear them. As petals of dislodged early blossom floated down amid a shocked silence as deep as the ocean, Kel gestured to Tobe and walked to stand before Rainbow, Tobe and Kitten behind her, with St’aara and Var’istaan holding Amiir’aan’s paws.

“My lords and ladies. Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

 _It is our duty, Protector._ Rainbow’s voice had that reedy feel, in Yamani as in Tortallan, but its power struck everyone, the crowd rippling. _Diamondflame being kin to Skysong, it was felt others should be present. You know us all, I think, save Moonwind._

That was an unwelcome name, but as Kel took a breath before turning to the separatist dragon Rainbow’s voice continued, forestalling her.

_And there is one thing we must deal with first, Protector. The darkings’ abilities increase in your care, and we felt your distress and guilt as you felt our anger. But no blame attaches to you. You warned us of your fears as soon as you knew them, and even Moonwind, who opposed from afar the decision of the Dragonmeet you attended, allows that you have done all that could be expected, and more. We are also aware of the warning the god Sakuyo gave you on Skysong’s behalf, a matter all ponder ; and of the great skill you showed in defending her from harm ; and of your rage on her behalf, as on young Amiir’aan’s, and those spidrens’ who died or took lesser harm, negligent of your own injury and claims. So as we have long been absent from this land, making us ignorant of its present customs ; and have full trust in your judgement : we ask that you conduct these proceedings as Guildmaster._

It was a possibilitily Kel had considered, though she had thought the dragons might rather deal for themselves, and there was no delay in her deep bow.

“I accept your charge, Lord Rainbow, of your grace reserving my failings to my own judgement.” She turned to the pale dragon. “Lady Moonwind, I am sorry this ill has come from the decision you opposed, yet I believe the mischance may be turned to the advantage of all save the guilty.” There was no harm in hedging bets. “And I rejoice that Lord Sakuyo has offered the gods’ goodwill to dragons.”

 _That is as may be, Protector._ The mindvoice was querulous, an iron duty overlying personal distaste. _Mortals have always spelt trouble, and you far more than most, but even rocks can see the Timeway yet swirling about you, as well as the gods with their usual foolery. So get on with it, as fast as you will, that we may consider the whole._

Kel had truly thought the Timeway done with her, and concealed surprise with a bow and a swift turn back to Rainbow and Diamondflame, whose unmistakable mindvoice rang in her head, the true anger beneath his civility clear to her.

_However discourteous, Moonwind is not wrong, Protector. And justice calls. Name us to these mortals, if you will, and proceed._

So she did, conscious of how thin even her command voice must sound after Diamondflame’s. She gave each dragon the dignities she could, including any parentage of Guild apprentices, then bowed to the enormous basilisk.

“Forgive me, elder, but I do not know your name.”

“I am Haarist’aaniar’aan, Protector, and the eldest living of my kind.” The bass whisper was being boosted by magic, though Kel didn’t know whose, and carried as clearly as any mindvoice. “The dragons relayed to me your request, and I answer it in honour and concern.”

“Thank you, Haarist’aaniar’aan.”

He inclined his huge head, and she went on to name the stormwings, from Queen Barzha and Lord Hebakh to Amourta, perched between Barzha and Cloestra. All the stormwings had washed and laughter flickered within her rage, but a certain smell of death came with them all the same, not wrongly, and her gaze slipped back to Lord Fujiwara, seeing the shock and fear naked on his face.

“And so your doubts must die, Lord Fujiwara. Here are those the guilty have offended. Will you now prate more of what authority you do or do not care to recognise?”

Immortal eyes rested on him, not kindly, and she felt him quail.

“But if we proceed in justice, we must have facts. And there are needs to be considered. Lady Skysong, especially, is distressed that she had to kill, and fears she did wrong, for to use dragonfire against flesh is a terrible thing, as I alone among mortals know to my cost.” Without looking she knew Diamondflame and Moonwing alike agreed with that, and that Yamanis were reconsidering tales they had heard. “Amiir’aan too regrets that he had to use the rockspell to kill. So let us first establish for all exactly what happened today, and hear the judgement of their own elders upon the actions these younglings chose.” She turned back to the dragons, addressing both Rainbow and Diamondflame. “My lords, might you lift Ebony and Button, so all may see what they saw from my collar and Blessed Count Domitan’s?”

_We might, Protector, and have brought others to aid their display._

Rainbow’s mindvoice was bland, in so far as a dragon’s could be, and a thick trickle of darkness flowed from his neck to join Ebony and Button, who leapt from her shoulder and Dom’s. A sparkle of multicoloured dragon magic lifted the darking huddle into the air, where it shifted and spread into a great curved sheet visible to all, though those closest to Mibu-oji had to turn and crane their necks. After some swift, confusing swirls of colour, the scene that appeared was of her just outside the temple door, Dom approaching it, and the views of Ebony and Button were seamlessly combined.

Remorselessly events played out, and Kel was shocked by her own speed as her _naginata_ whipped down to intercept the crossbow bolt, far more by luck than judgement — if there was any room for luck in all this. Without Lord Sakuyo’s warning, setting her so sharply on edge, she would never have managed it, and in the gap before the _ronin_ appeared she sensed the dragons’ fierce attention and felt her own emotions shift complexly towards greater gratitude, resentment at his long silence ebbing. But as the _ronin_ captain made his absurd, vicious demands, Rainbow supplying the words in a mindvoice that perfectly imitated the man, and the fight began, Kel’s concentration was on the experiences of Dom and Tobe, Kitten and Amiir’aan, denied her during the reality.

It had been as the first poor spidren was overborne and killed that the chief _kamunushi_ had run for the swords of law and duty, and they had barely been thrust into Dom’s and Tobe’s hands before the fall of the two samurai obliged her to join the mêlée and be forced sideways. The _ronin_ who had moved to assail the doorway had been led by a thickset, powerful man, and her heart was wrenched as she saw Dom lead with his whole leg and a single blade, utterly trusting Tobe to block the assailant’s _ko-wazikashi_ , as he did, both deflecting it and striking with a turning blade to cut deep into the man’s wrist. His shock allowed Dom to strike at his neck, felling him, but three were pushing forward over his falling body, and she saw herself begin the manoeuvre that would have cost her her life but for Kitten — whose snout was whipping back and forth between Kel’s assailants and those ranging themselves against Dom and Tobe. Time stretched, as it had then, and she saw Dom’s blade skewer one man as Amiir’aan’s mouth opened and the rock-spell struck the heads of the other two, while a frantic Kitten whirled her snout and with a paw snapping to full extension sent her firebolt searing through Kel’s own third opponent — and angled up, as Kel had not appreciated at the time, to strike that man alone and vanish in the air beyond. Then Kravimal and his flankers rushed from the trees to charge the _ronin_ , mortal heads and legs flying away with the force of their strikes, and the display lasted long enough to show Jonathan’s blue bolts striking _ronin_ down before it faded, and the darkings sank bank to a great blob on the earth of _Sorei_. Ebony and Button returned to her and Dom, and she thanked them before turning to hold out a hand. Amiir’aan reluctantly released his grips on his mother’s and stepfather’s paws to come to her side. She squatted to face him at his own level.

“You have my profound thanks, Amiir’aan. But hear now the judgement of your elder.”

Mindful of the sheer size of Haarist’aaniar’aan, and basilisks’ relative inflexibility, she lifted Amiir’aan to stand on her shoulders, putting them eye to eye.

“Thank you, Protector, that is helpful. Tell me, young Amiir’aan, what you were thinking as you made the decision to kill that we have seen?”

The magic amplification worked for Amiir’aan too, but after the elder’s voice his fluting whisper was thin, his youth painfully audible.

“The Protector had told us to defend ourselves at any cost, if we had to, and the idea worried Skysong, so as her elder I felt responsible for her as well as myself. I waited as long as I could, but I did not think Domitan and Tobeis could defend against three so I used the rock-spell.”

“And why did you strike their heads only?”

“My power is weak, and I feared to petrify only their armour, so I struck at their heads. And by angling the spell upwards I could be sure it would not hurt others.” Kel felt his weight shift a little. “I cannot regret their deaths, but I regret my need.”

“That is well. And your power is not weak for your age, Amiir’aan. Quite the opposite. I commend your control and your reasoning, and I see nothing in your actions of which you should not be proud. Return now to your mother.”

“Thank you, Eldest.”

Kel could hear the relief in Amiir’aan’s voice, and gently set him down, reiterating her own gratitude and giving him a quick hug before holding out a hand for Kitten, who even more reluctantly released Tobe’s hand.

“Come now, Kit, and let Ancestor Rainbow know your thoughts.”

They went to stand before the blind dragon, who lowered his head to face Kitten. Seeing his magic swirl to envelop someone else was strange, and besides the memories of her own interrogation by magic after the siege Kel was aware of a swirling sideways wash of mental communication. Glancing swiftly round, she thought other dragons must be receiving whatever Rainbow was seeing, and as his magic withdrew his mindvoice confirmed it.

 _Be easy, Skysong. You did nothing wrong and much right. Your strike was necessary, and though you thought to save another rather than yourself, the threat was aimed at you and the Protector fought on your behalf. You rightly delayed as long as you could in hope no strike would be needed, and when it was, you made it with sure power and perfect control, remarkable in one so young. Yet that youth also inevitably magnifies your proper regret for the death you caused, and your grandsire can aid you with that burden._ The great blind head turned slowly from side to side. _Does any other have aught to say of this?_

Jadewing had a look Kel thought might be a dragon frown.

_How old is Skysong now?_

“She has fifteen years, Lord Jadewing.”

_So few? Then her power and control are indeed remarkable. My congratulations, youngling. I could not have done anything like that at your age, nor for centuries more._

_Nor I._ Moonwind’s mindvoice had become much more thoughtful. _It is true that in the Dragonlands Skysong would not have faced this danger, but plainly she can cope with the dangers she does face here._

Other dragons agreed, and Kel could see Kitten’s relief, but the air of shaken misery about the dragonet was still strong, and she looked a query at Diamondflame, who extended a vast paw.

_Come now, Skysong, and let me aid your sorrow._

Kel had to lift a shaking Kitten into Diamondflame’s grip, and the brief look she and Diamondflame shared as magic enveloped the dragonet was as filled with compassion as rage at the need for it. His mindvoice came to her alone, tinged with regret.

_My warnings when I taught her the firespell were fierce for good reason, as you will understand, but she has taken them too much to heart. Yet all will be well, Keladry. She is but shocked, and a first death always weighs. Only find for us now those who forced her to this choice._

Kel nodded, and turned, surveying daïs and crowd. Imperial faces were utterly still, though eyes roved over the dragons, and silence possessed the crowd. Lord Fujiwara was managing to mask his fear, barely, but awe and terror could be seen all around.

“All have now seen exactly what happened. If I had not had divine warning Lady Skysong would have died. I assumed it was Lord Sakuyo, and the dragons confirm it, so I offer that High One my own thanks, and those of the Guild.”

She paused to offer a bow, meant for Sakuyo, if he chose to respond, but Rainbow spoke first.

_I add the thanks of dragons. The god’s care for our kit is noted._

Thunder cracked, though the sky was clear, and Yamani faces that came back to her as echoes faded and she went on showed more shock.

 “So we are assured Lord Sakuyo listens, as many gods do, for this was no simple crime. No band of _ronin_ would make such an assault unless they had been well paid, and whoever gave their orders struck not only at Yaman’s honour, but at all the Guild has achieved. And were themselves wholly honourless, for the strike was at the youngest of her kind. A _child._ ” She took a breath, banking down rage again, and this time no-one interrupted. “It is immortal justice that must be served now, and its ways are beyond mortals, but it is important all understand what passes.” She turned. “Lord Rainbow, might the griffins attend us?”

_They come now, Protector._

Kel was used to Junior’s parents descending with ringing cries, but the pair Kit had reported sensing came out of the darkness in silence, feathers gleaming in the torchlight as they landed. Their colours looked lighter too, but the haughty faces were very similar, and they ignored all save the dragons, to whom they briefly bent heads. After a moment Rainbow mindspoke their unpronouncable names for all to hear, then named Kel to them as the Protector, who asked their aid in justice. They stalked across to her, acknowledging her bow with curt nods, and at her gesture flanked a space before her.

“You of Yaman are familiar with the sight of these griffins, who dwell in the mountains here, but lacking one to communicate with them have had no dealings with their power. Learn now what that power is.” She sought the face she wanted, near the daïs. “His Imperial Majesty tells me, Isao- _sensei_ , that your honesty is known to all. Might I ask you to join me for a moment, of your kindness?”

He was an elderly man, wrinkled and white haired in a plain robe, and his nervous surprise was clear.

“Me, Blessed Protector- _sensei_? Of course.”

He used a stick to walk, and she went to meet him in courtesy, offering an arm as she guided him to stand between the griffins.

“It is a simple thing that is needed, _sensei_. In the presence of a griffin, no mortal can lie nor utter anything they know to be untrue. Would you please make the attempt, that all may know it is so.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, and suddenly a smile lit the old face.

“Such style as well as power, Blessed, to ask this of one who has taken pride in honesty.”

He turned to one side and the other, bowing to the griffins, and then faced the daïs.

“My name is Isao. I am a poet. I was born in this province seventy-si — ” His voice grated to silence. “Seventy-se — … Seventy-f —  … seventy-eight years ago.” Wonder came to his face. “I do not like _sa —_  … I _do_ like _sake_ , sometimes too much. Ah now, such a thing. The Blessed Protector spoke the truth. _Praise bronze-gold griffins, whose stern grace will hear no lie : brazen featherlight._ ”

What griffins made of _haiku_ Kel had no idea, but they had passed it as true, and the old man’s spontaneous composition caught Yamani sensibilities. She found her own sense of humour tickled, not least by the look on Jonathan’s face, and thought Lord Sakuyo approved too. The Emperor certainly did, rising to offer the old man a salute, hand over heart with a brief bow, which many others echoed more deeply.

“Thank you, Isao- _sensei_.”

“The honour is mine, Blessed.”

At her glance Tobe came to offer his arm, and escorted the old man back to his place as she once more raised her voice.

“Only truth may be spoken in their presence. Know also that in this proceeding there is no right of silence. Anyone accused can clear themselves by declaring innocence before the griffins, and if innocent _must_ do so, for refusal to deny will be taken as proof of guilt, and acted on. And though griffins cannot compel any to answer, others here can, and will. Kravimal- _sama_ , please bring in your prisoner.”

She had not wanted the distraction of the trussed assassin, nor to give any bolt from the dark a chance to silence him permanently, and the surviving spidrens had waited outside _Sorei_ with their burden. Now they came forward, two awkward on seven legs, and Kravimal revealed his own sense of theatre, rolling the man downslope to fetch up at her feet. She knelt to prop him up, resting his web-swathed back against her knee.

“Know that this one fired the crossbow bolt and was caught before he could escape. He has refused to speak, saying only that if he dies silently he dies alone, but if he speaks his kin will be punished for it. Perhaps that is so, but his refusal cannot be permitted. The Stone Tree Nation attends us, and I call on them now of their grace to force him to speech, here between the griffins where whatever he utters must be truth.”

The stormwings cackled as they launched themselves from branches into brief glides, landing to face her in a ring. Any mortal reaction was frozen as the saw-toothed croon began, and she braced herself against the fear she too would feel, but felt magic grip her and heard Diamondflame’s private voice.

_Your willingness is typical, Protector, but there is no need for you to endure this again._

She was relieved and grateful, but thanks would have to wait. The assassin was already writhing in his bonds, sweat beading his face, and she grasped his shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other, forcing him to face the swaying, tightening circle of immortals. Steel feathers flashed firelight into his eyes, and he cried wordless terror. Abstractly she felt the cruelty of it, and the justice, for it would be his fears for his kin, designed to ensure his silence against all chance, that were being turned against him to make him speak. He had soiled himself, and magic did not save her from the stench, but she didn’t move.

“Who gave you orders?” Barzha was almost on him, her voice deadly sweet between steel teeth. “Only speech can ease you, mortal.” The saw-toothed croon dug deeper into his mind. “Who gave you orders?”

Barzha extended her wings towards his head, and as the tips drew blood from his temples the shriek burst from him.

“Yutaka noh Kuhaku.”

The name meant nothing to Kel but his voice had been amplified for all to hear and she was aware of Yamanis stirring and soldiers departing at a run as Prince Eitaro snapped orders. And Barzha was not finished.

“What were your orders?”

He shivered in her grasp, his voice empty. “To kill the dragon thing.”

“When and where were you ordered to do this?”

“Two days ago, in the garden of his house.”

“Why did he order this?”

“I don’t know.”

That was truth, like the rest, and Kel had expected it, but Barzha could see his face and asked again.

“Have you killed on his orders before?”

“Yes.”

“Whom did you kill?”

“Hotaka. A _kamunushi_ of Sakuyo.” Barzha didn’t need to press him any more, for words were draining from his mouth like water through a leak in rotten wood. “Before that, Goro noh Toshiaki, a bureaucrat.”

Both names caused more stirring, and Kel assumed the _kamunushi_ had been the one who challenged Lord Fujiwara on his beliefs, but still Barzha pressed on.

“Why did you accept his orders to kill?”

“He paid well, and is dangerous to refuse.”

“Why?”

“He is a broker for the great who need such services as mine.”

Barzha’s gaze met Kel’s. “He has suspicions, Protector, but no sure knowledge, for he took care never to confirm them. And his soul was emptied years ago. He has killed many more than these two he names.”

“Let him then name all his victims to a samurai of the Imperial Guard, with witnesses, as the price of his release to the Black God, but vile as his other crimes may be they cannot detain us. And we have a name, Your Majesty. You should return to the trees.”

Barzha nodded, and the stormwings stepped back, lumbering into awkward lift-offs and circling to perch again. At Kel’s gesture two samurai guards came forward and lifted the assassin, face slack. Free of his weight, she stood, and after making sure the samurai had heard what was needed, and seen them take the man aside, her eyes sought Eitaro’s. She registered that Yuki, Keiichi, and Neal had joined her parents at the side of the daïs.

“Your Imperial Highness, is this man Yutaka noh Kuhaku known?”

“He is, Blessed. He holds _shoen_ in the north, and trades in rice here, but is also, as that traitor said, known as a broker and middleman for loans and favours. I have ordered his arrest and transport here, if he can be found and taken alive.”

“Thank you. But it would seem, then, that he would only have passed orders, not originated them.”

“So I would think also, Blessed.”

“And if so, he and the man he passed the orders to should not face justice alone. Yet who knows how long the chain might be? One who would order the murder of a dragon, a kit both under His Imperial Majesty’s protection and within a shrine, would have reason to make it long indeed, and to find the custom of _seppuku_ as convenient as murder. So I must assume it is on this they rely, as on the limitations of mortal enquiry and justice in such a case.”

She took a breath, not looking at Lord Fujiwara directly but aware of the strain in every line of his body.

“But this is not mortal justice, and there is one power that can find those we seek directly, the Wild Hunt, whose hounds scent the guilt they pursue. Nor may any escape them. It is true the Wild Hunt is not of Yaman, and would not of itself come here ; and most true that neither I nor any mortal may command them, for their master is Lord Weiryn. But it is also true that his major shrine is at New Hope, that he has favoured us in the past with presence and gifts, and that the hounds of the Hunt are in another matter my sworn allies, granted free run of my woods for guarding travellers on the Great North Road as it passes through my lands. In so far as a mortal may so presume, I count the lead couple, Wuodan and Frige, as friends, and so have asked the permission of Lord Mithros to request their aid, with Lord Weiryn’s. That permission having been granted, as His and Her Majesty, and His Imperial Highness, can attest, with the chief _kamunushi_ of Kiyomizu-dera” — she knelt, lifting her arms — “I do now pray to Lord Weiryn, of his grace, for the aid of the Wild Hunt in finding those who sought to murder Lady Skysong, and for their own ends risked all that begins at New Hope.”

The last bit was carefully worded, for Kel very much doubted that Fujiwara — and whoever he decided such things with — had given what the Guild and New Hope truly represented any thought at all. They thought this an internal Yamani matter, and though fear of immortals and dislike of closer contact with them had played in, Kitten’s death had been intended as a means, not an end, the very lack of concern about the consequences speaking volumes. But for whatever reasons of their own, both dragons and gods cared about the co-operation New Hope embodied, and as Sakuyu’s intervention showed clearly, the gods would not have their new and fragile peace with dragons marred by the death of a kit even younger than poor Runt had been. There was the murder of the _kamunushi_ as well, and the impiety of the politicised Sakuyan priesthood ; but also ironies Kel knew she barely grasped, from Kit’s history of scolding Lord Mithros to her Mama’s defence of the swords there, and the circle her own life had made from that moment to this. She had thought that a part of Lord Sakuyo’s ongoing jest with her until Moonwind had mentioned the Timeway ; but gods saw that as well or better than dragons, so the possibilities were not mutually exclusive, and fitted horribly well with another — for she really had in some way been trying to save the swords herself for most of her life, both her creation and defence of New Hope stemming from that impossible urge. And now her husband and son had _used_ the swords while she had been helpless only feet away. It was too shrewd a stroke not to be Lord Sakuyo’s, though how he had got the chief _kamunushi_ thinking it his own idea was a mystery. But however that might be, and whatever Lord Mithros’s reservations, her plea to the gods, absurd and irregular as it was, had served sufficient ends they all desired ; and whatever the political repercussions, the act itself would be a precise thing, swift and complete, striking once and for all to the core. So she prayed in expectation, not hope, and as silver flared was puzzled by how little of it there was until it cleared to show only Wuodan, a gleaming staff held in his mouth. The griffins rose, bating, and took paces back.

The crowd’s silence had deepened again, shock gripping them as they saw the great hound’s size and the red hunting fires in his eyes. He padded to within a few feet of her, looking down with an expression she couldn’t read, and she knew what change it was Lord Mithros had insisted on but not what it meant.

“Don’t tell me, Wuodan. Lord Weiryn cannot leave his lands, because of the hundred-year rule.”

_True, Protector. But with our consent he is willing you should lead us yourself in this hunt, if you will._

Fighting shock of her own, she spoke carefully, thinking of Tobe’s warning. “What cost will I bear?”

_Well, you won’t grow horns. But you won’t be quite mortal while you hold the staff, and shouldn’t dawdle while you do. Its power is a lot greater than yours to sustain it, and you’ll run out of yours quite quickly. So you will need to make the charge you lay on us when you call us to hunt both exact and limited._

“I cannot run with you as Lord Weiryn would.”

_He rides sometimes. As you can. We asked the horse god, who thinks well of Peachblossom, and so of you. He has agreed._

Kel blinked. “So I take the staff, ride a god, and if I overdo it I’ll die.”

_More or less. But you’d have to do something very silly to die. It is only that the staff was not designed for mortal use._

“Has any other mortal ever so led you, Wuodan?”

_One, once, a long time ago, often while he lived and once after his death, when we hunted the mortal who had slain him._

That sounded hopeful, so only one thing remained. “Thank you. And you, with Frige and your fellows, are content I should be the second? Does Lord Mithros or any other oblige you in this against your own free judgement and will?”

He cocked his head. _You really are a very interesting mortal, Protector, but you needn’t worry. It was our suggestion. Weiryn considers it a poor second-best to leading us himself, and is less than pleased with Mithros, but finds it right the Hunt be called for this. And we are eager to find those who would harm Skysong, who delights and amuses all._

That was a logic Kel could understand, and Wuodan’s plain speaking was as always refreshing. Daine was right that, divine or mortal, the People were often much more sensible than two-leggers.

“Then I accept, Wuodan, with thanks to you and all your companions, and to Lord Weiryn. I just take the staff, and keep a grip?”

_You do._

So she did, and the world changed.

§

 

The first coherent thought that persuaded Kel she might still, somewhere, be herself was a memory of Daine, scowling sincerity at her after magicking Alder.

_Just imagine, Kel, what it would be like to have one of the gods suddenly inflate your brain to work more like their own._

She hadn’t been able to, of course, and owed Alder a profound apology. Beyond the pain, like a headache in every hair, it was utterly confusing, but slowly she realised that there was knowledge and there was power, but they were and were not the same. The world she sensed glittered with knowledge, if she would know it. She had no access to thoughts other than her own, for which she was deeply grateful, but if her will was concerned with a thing, be it a tree or a person, knowledge of it would come to her. And so the trick was _not_ willing it, unless you needed to — for her, now, a vital lesson, or she would burn out in minutes, but a great deal about the gods’ failings also became abruptly clear. As the thought occurred, she knew that she was in the slow time gods commanded at need, and that this was granted her of their power, or the staff’s, not draining her own limited resources. Ruthlessly she closed her eyes and sank into her lake, seeking again Sakuyo’s calm, her Yamani stillness, and when she found it she spent a long moment separating herself from the pain, which she let wash through her as water through a net until it could be ignored, and tightly binding her normal curiosity. For now one thing alone mattered, one pure purpose of this gift, and when it was all done she opened herself to a little more understanding.

Wuodan’s advice had been sound. Without yet knowing anything about them in detail, as she thought of the guilty she must seek she could sense their rough numbers and range, and set about reducing them to what was possible. Inevitably, many had seen one or more of the _ronin_ as they assembled, wondering where such might be going yet raising no alarm, but that earned no blame. Others had suspected what was intended without truly knowing, and they also were beneath this justice. But few had known with certainty, and fewer still formed the narrow chain of relayed orders, leading to the knot of those who had not obeyed but commanded ; those who had decided, and must die for it. Some were moving away, not yet ten miles from the city, others present already, and she came smoothly to her feet, staff in her hand, feeling time flow faster again — and laughed, for patient Wuodan could not hunt alone. When she raised it the staff gleamed silver.

“Come to me, hounds of the Hunt!”

They poured into the world, silver flaring, and she greeted them by couples with the names she knew as she saw them, one hand resting on Wuodan’s high shoulder, and Frige now flanking her on the other side, tongue lolling. And after them, at the last, came a stallion, hands higher than any she had ever seen and the deepest, shining black. She bowed, knowing his name too, because the courtesy was necessary even though, like all the animal gods, he had little interest in it.

“Greetings, Lord Arawn, with my profound thanks for the grace you do me.”

_You are owed for Peachblossom, Protector. And I will enjoy the run._

She smiled at the practicality, utterly unaware of her effect on those who watched.

“Even so. Will you listen now to the charge I give the Hunt, and observe it?”

_I will. You learn fast. Wuodan and the Badger both said you did._

Kel’s bound curiosity stirred at the thought of _that_ conversation, but she suppressed it, clearing her mind again. But a different thought came, and she considered what she knew, finding no impediment.

“I try. And some we seek flee us even now.”

 _Then let us ride. You will not fall, though I will bear no bridle or saddle, and none shall outpace us_.

Which was, Kel thought, only half the problem, but resources were to hand. Just now, though, she had a horse whose back was at least four hands higher than Alder’s or Peachblossom’s to mount, and no stirrup, but she also had a staff, and carefully transferring it to her left hand ran forward, twisted to fist her free hand in his mane, and pushed up, unsurprised to find herself astride him and divine magic gripping her legs. The hounds whined and yipped, eyes burning with their eagerness to run, and when they affirmed that they knew the crime they were called to punish, a great wash of mindvoices, she laid out their charge, as exactly as she had to — those who had of their own free will passed and enforced the assassin’s orders or those to the _ronin_ , those who had known of them as certainty, and those who had decided upon and issued those orders ; the most distant to be taken first. Wuodan listened with cocked ears, and looked his approval as she finished, the flames in his eyes brightening, but she held up a hand.

“Three small things, first.” She looked at Kravimal. “Unless the Emperor commands otherwise, Kravimal- _sama_ , allow none of rank to leave before we return.”

He nodded, and her simple will had Arawn walking forward and turning, without the least pressure from knees. He stopped before Diamondflame, in whose paw Kitten had uncurled at last and was sitting up, watching, her face still unwontedly solemn.

“Lady Skysong, we ride in your name. Will you ride with us, and help us hunt down those who would have harmed you?”

_Can I?_

“If you wish it, Lord Arawn will bear you before me. The hounds hunt in justice for you, and I think it fitting you should. But it is your choice, without fear or favour however you decide.”

The dragonet looked up at her grandsire, but then, interestingly, at Amiir’aan, and seemed to square her shoulders.

_I owe Amiir’aan a debt, and you, Kel, so although I do not relish this hunt as I should, I will come. How do I get up? I cannot jump that high._

     Kel’s eyes again met Diamondflame’s in shared laughter and pain, and she was unsurprised when Kit floated gently up to land in front of her, paws grasping Arawn’s mane. But she felt his surprise when her gaze swung around the arc of dragons to Moonwind, and she spoke again.

“Is there any other, capable of keeping up with the Hunt in full cry, who would fly with us, that a dragon of age may witness what passes?”

_They will allow this?_

Moonwind’s voice was as shocked as Kel had ever heard a dragon, and she knew the grace of her own brief nod.

“The decision is mine, and I acknowledge your true concerns. It comes to me also that you might find comfort in this, though there will be labour in it.”

The pale dragon understood her but Jadewing didn’t.

_Labour, Protector? What do you mean?_

“Not all the guilty we seek will survive being chased back here by the Hunt, my lord. Their hearts will fail them, not from shame or fear but only age and exhaustion. Lord Arawn cannot bear them all, nor the hounds, but dragons could.”

_Oh. Right. That makes sense. I’ll carry them, if you want._

_And I. Diamondflame and Rainbow were right about you, however I dislike it._

Moonwind looked at the senior dragons, and Kel had to suppress what she might know of the complex wave of mindthought between them, shot through with pride, rue, humility, and irritation. She would have raised the staff to start things and cut it off, but there was another and welcome distraction.

“May we fly with the Hunt also, Protector?”

She looked at Barzha. “Of course, Your Majesty, and feed at your pleasure, if you will channel your power to our service once more.”

Stormwings cackled, and Barzha smiled her austere smile.

“Gladly, Protector. And I ask Wuodan, Frige, and all of the Hunt that they consider what our aid might achieve, as we will consider what a sustaining purpose in times of peace might mean.”

That was something Kel hadn’t even thought of, and she filed it away, sparkling with promise, and raised the staff, knowing the hounds could run in air, that Arawn could gallop where he wished. The goddess’s hounds pealed somewhere, joining the clamour of the Hunt, and battlecries joined thunder, though she didn’t know who could hear them besides her, and it didn’t matter as the Wild Hunt took to the skies, dragons and stormwings exploding into flight after them.

* * * * *

As the sounds faded, a long minute after the astounding sight had been lost in the dark sky, the Emperor finally gave up staring after it, and sat, a hand rubbing his neck as he looked at his guests, then his brother.

“You did say, Eitaro, but I hadn’t quite … imagined it rightly.”

“Nor I, Daichi, for all I saw the lead couple at her wedding. And I don’t think even she was expecting that horse! Nor to lead them. I wonder what the hound said to her.”

“Or the horse, to make her smile like that! I thought my heart might stop.”

“I’m not sure mine didn’t, Daichi.” Jonathan blew out a long breath. “But Keladry seems to take more or less anything in her stride. I did warn you — runaway horses, remember? Literally, as it turns out.”

Thayet batted his arm, but without force. “Tobeis might know what was said, Daichi — he was closer to Kel, and has horse magic.”

But a summoned Blessed Tobeis, accompanied by a wary Blessed Domitan, only shrugged.

“Wuodan and Lord Arawn — he’s the male horse god, Var’istaan says — were speaking privately to Ma, Your Imperial Majesty, so I don’t think anyone else will have heard. But from what _she_ said, Lord Mithros wouldn’t let Lord Weiryn come, because he’s bound to his lands for a century after they made the Green Lady a god, but they let Ma take his place. She was worried about a hidden price, and there are limits to what is allowed, but Wuodan reassured her.”

“And her smile at Lord Arawn?”

“Who knows?” The boy’s voice was reverent. “Wasn’t he gorgeous? I just wish poor Peachblossom was here to see it. In Tortall we sometimes say something makes _horse sense_ , and I bet he made some she liked. Something practical amid all this fuss.”

“ _Fuss?_ ”

Blessed Tobeis nodded, perfectly serious. “Lord Sakuyo’s playing jokes, idiots tried to harm Kitten so immortals are angry, and gods are arguing. Fuss. But it’s just Ma getting things done, Your Imperial Majesty, when others won’t.” He blushed charmingly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to — ”

“No, no.” The Emperor waved a faint hand. “You are not wrong. But the Protector does not seem to see obstacles that for others loom large.”

“Tell me, Daichi. But it looks like you’re going to be down a nest of traitors as well as a multiple murderer, without lifting a finger yourself.”

Blessed Tobeis gave his king a sidelong look, but spoke directly. “Ma just believes in using the resources available, Your Imperial Majesty. You didn’t have them, but the gods did and weren’t using them. I bet she feels they’ve been slacking.”

“Slacking.” Even to his own ears the Emperor’s voice sounded hollow.

“She does tend to think that way, I’m afraid, Your Imperial Majesty.” Blessed Domitan’s voice was apologetic. “It’s because they didn’t clean up properly after Uusoae, and a lot of people suffered as a result, including her. But forgive me, I must make my duty to the dragons and” — he concentrated — “Haarist’aaniar’aan, and if you will allow the presumption, I believe you and Prince Eitaro and Their Majesties should too. Dragons value courtesy greatly, we have found, and basilisks.”

The Emperor blew out a breath. “Wise and terrifying advice, Blessed Domitan- _sama_. If I can manage to stand.”

“You said you wanted to meet real dragons, Daichi.”

“So I did, brother. And I do. It’s just …”

“I know. But we’re already being rude.”

He found his hands holding Reiko’s and Taikyuu’s tightly and a genuine fear in his belly approaching the vast creatures, but it was clear Blessed Tobeis at least, though most respectful, felt none, and seemed to think of Lord Diamondflame as a very large variety of favourite uncle, asking anxiously if Skysong would be alright. Reassured, the boy also made light work of necessary introductions, in his surprisingly good Yamani, and great eyes, seeing and milkily opaque, rested on him as he offered a formal apology for the affront to Lady Skysong while his most esteemed guest.

_The Protector and a god have shielded you, Daichi noh Takuji, and we hold no grudge. Had Skysong died in this mortal foolishness, it might be otherwise._

Lord Diamondflame’s head turned. _It would be otherwise, Rainbow. My granddaughter is not one to lose, as even Jadewing could see. And as she will not cease to travel the mortal realms for some time, it is no ill thing to remind these mortals that to threaten the kit is to draw the elder. Besides, Keladry is being very interesting again, and not only with Moonwind, priceless as that was._ And turned back. _Yaman as much as Tortall made the Protector as she is, Daichi noh Takuji_ , _and there are matters I would understand better. Tell me, please, about these swords her mother once saved that have today been used._

That had been the last thing on his mind, but the story that unfolded as many Blesseds were drawn in — honoured Ilane and so-useful Piers, with Jonathan, and a reluctant Domitan- _sama_ and wise young Tobeis- _chan_ — had a commanding pattern. Thinking also of that astonishing book, so potent and uncertain, he glimpsed for a moment the complexity of Lord Sakuyo’s jest — a rebuke across generations, tickling Yaman out of proud isolation and using Keladry- _chan_ as she used the Hunt, _gaijin_ tools perfectly to hand and shining so brightly, just as he had written ; a jest on and with and through her, yet a great gift to her, and to all. Though it would never occur to her, Keladry- _chan_ had already outdone her mother, for if honoured Ilane had defeated one party of Scanran raiders, her astonishing daughter had won the treaty that stopped all such at their source. But disbelieve in herself as she so humbly might, after tonight the Blessed Protector- _sensei’s_ name and _her_ unspoken, blazing rebuke, to attitudes as much as practices, would occupy the poets for ever. Honoured Ilane had saved the swords of law of duty, so Blesseds Domitan and Tobeis could wield them, but Keladry- _chan_ embodied them, terrible and beautiful, ruthless and kind. And finding it merely her practical duty to summon dragons, a huge basilisk, stormwings, griffins, and great fire-eyed hounds from thin air before mounting a god and riding off into that same air as they swirled after her, white rage and marvellous absurdity spiralling into the terrible laughter of the gods. He found Jonathan’s hand on his shoulder and met eyes that understood.

“I had a moment like that, once, during the siege. It’s what I was trying to tell you before, but I don’t have the words even in Tortallan. They _are_ gods.” His voice became thoughtful. “It’s like their voices — we aren’t meant to hear them truly, because mortals can’t bear them, any more than we can bear their laughter. But since the Black God sent her back Keladry can, not often or for long, but in a way beyond the rest of us.” He shrugged. “Nothing we can do anything about, anyway. Come and meet the big basilisk — he’s asking Roald and Shinko about New Hope and saying he ought to see what his kin have been building while he’s here.”

* * * * *

Kel thought of the power flowing through her from the staff as a river, not only capable of eroding but certain to do so, and was using it as sparingly as she could — which was easier than she’d expected. Even in that first wild rush she had only given a signal : it was within the hounds’ power to run in air, and Arawn’s, and they knew their direction. She had only to wait, holding Kit, as action released the pressure of rage and self-mockery flickered in the thought that she, of all people, was flying yet again.

Nor had the furthest knot of the fleeing guilty been a problem — Lord Shoji with two guilty companions and ten innocent guards cantering away from the city and breaking to a frantic gallop as they saw their pursuit. But none could outpace the Hunt, and mindful of their horses she asked Arawn if he might command them, sharing knowledge of the three who were lawful prey. She felt his amusement, and ten surprised samurai found their horses bolting away from the road, unmolested by circling hounds, while the horses of the guilty bucked hard enough to throw their riders cleanly from their saddles into the bordering hedge, and followed. A hovering Moonwind plucked the three up, and that was that.

The other fugitive was still easier, Yutaka noh Kuhaku riding with a single servant, brought to a dead halt by stormwings and lifted clean from his saddle by Jadewing with a shriek of terror. But of the other six she needed, three were within the Fujiwara compound, and three within almost adjacent noble compounds, in the blocks west of the Daidairi and north of the Temple District — men she knew, without pressing the thought, who had passed Fujiwara’s orders or that he had told of his decision because he had desired their voices when the news came, who had done nothing to prevent him, and avoided the Emperor’s summons. They would have sworn samurai guards in every compound, innocent save in loyalty ; nor would they have been at _Sorei_ to see for themselves, and who knew what they might have heard? Mortal weapons could not harm the Hunt, but they could hurt all the same, and stormwings were vulnerable. She called Wuodan to her side as the last fields slid beneath and the city loomed, sharing with stormwings and dragons what she knew and wanted.

“The three first, then the loners. Let the dragons and me confront the guard, Your Majesty, while the Stone Tree Nation shapes terror from beyond bow-shot, and Wuodan leads the hounds in from above, to chase forth those we want.”

She felt Wuodan’s sharp approval, with stormwings’ and dragons’ agreement, and as Arawn brought her down to the street before the Fujiwara compound, the stormwings slowed to hover in a wide bowl two hundred feet up. Jadewing was above her, Moonwind on the far side. Fear joined the sheer startlement on the faces that peered through the wide iron gates in the defensive wall, and she raised her voice.

“Samurai of Lord Fujiwara, your house shelters three the Wild Hunt seek, and you cannot stop us taking them to justice. You stand innocent, but strike at us and that will change, for the Hunt may not be impeded. Stand aside.”

It was simple enough, but so was the samurai code of loyalty, and despite the beating stormwing fear men were forming up behind the gate, preparing to die in a hopeless and unjust cause. A captain even answered her, duty overriding the tremors in his voice.

“None may enter here against us.”

“Brave but wrong, captain. Last chance.” Belling calls and a scream from within the compound snapped his head round to see the hounds pouring in through windows, eyes blazing, before his eyes came back to her in a new agony of indecision. “Your defences are breached and our prey started.”

All the samurai were frozen, and at her gesture stormwings pulsed distracting power while Jadewing let his tail whip down to slap the gates from their hinges and bowl the guards over like skittles. There would be bruises and perhaps broken bones, but she had asked him not to kill and he looked to have judged it to a nicety ; nor would any be getting up again in a hurry, even if they could, for wide cones of his green magic pressed down like water on either side of her. Arawn took her into the courtyard as screaming servants began to burst from the house only to find themselves flying towards danger as well as from it. Their terror was needless and unfair, their noise irritating, and she put just enough power in her voice to rise above it all.

“Be silent, and move aside. The Hunt harms none but its lawful prey.”

It wasn’t much of a silence, broken by fearful whimpers and the groans of fallen samurai, but it was a vast improvement. And as the three who _were_ lawful prey were driven before her, she knew them — Fujiwara’s wife, elegant face unpainted and twisted with fear ; his brother, hand bleeding where a hound had relieved him of a sword ; and last, wheezing and hobbling with Wuodan snapping remorselessly at her heels, his mother. She too was unpainted, and beneath the fear and outrage Kel could see the old woman’s bitterness and hate, her hopeless and consuming desire for the power she must once have expected as an emperor’s wife or mother-in-law. This was where the recklessness had come from, but words could wait, and the old woman’s frailty was real enough.

She raised the staff, a mere gesture, using no power, and Moonwing’s pale magic scooped up wife and brother. Kel reached down to grasp the old woman by the scruff of her robe and deposit her over Arawn’s withers in front of Kit, who planted a paw glowing with magic on the bent back.

 _Stay still, or I’ll press harder_.

Whether it was common sense or just breathlessness, Kel didn’t know and didn’t need to, but the woman was still, and Arawn turned, cantering out and down the street to the next compound, hounds flowing around him. Stormwings and dragons followed above, captives dangling from great paws. The remaining targets were close enough that all had seen, and as she had hoped there was no further need to fight. The same samurai code that would make men die for their lord’s honour dictated that lord’s self-sacrifice when hope failed, and if the Hunt alone, so alien to Yamani culture, might not have been enough so swiftly, the dragons were. Two of the lords who had known what was to happen had to be fetched out by the hounds before they could commit _seppuku_ , her awareness of it sending Wuodan and Frige bounding clean over guards who tried to stand aside, but at the last compound the lord was waiting to surrender himself. This close to _Sorei_ she saw no reason for immortals to be burdened with fit men, and the hounds made them jog through the streets, while she sent the dragons ahead to deposit their burdens.

Sai-oji was largely clear, though faces stared from behind gates and windows, but as they turned onto Niko-oji they came to the rear of the great crowd surrounding _Sorei_. She didn’t want anyone hurt, and a word drew the Hunt into a narrower column while stormwings flew low ahead, calling warnings to stand aside and make way, to offer no harm and take none. People parted like water before a boat’s prow, but they could see the stumbling lords and the still figure on whom Kitten’s paw still rested, and knew _they_ were not threatened, their faces filling more with wonder than with fear. At least they weren’t shouting her name or title, as Tortallans would have been, and even the great burble of sound from those at _Sorei_ died away as the stormwings returned to the branches, the hounds chased the stumbling lords in, and Arawn followed.

The guilty were huddled between spidren guards and griffins in a space before the arc of dragons, the still trussed assassin among them. Lord Fujiwara was staring with a horrified face at his wife, brother, and son, but had not gone to them, though imperial samurai behind him showed he had been prevented from leaving, and for the first time a personal contempt joined Kel’s rage. Two who stood near him were guilty also, and she turned Arawn to face them as she stopped, nodding to Kravimal and the griffins ; Kitten lifted her paw, and Kel lowered the old woman to stand by her son and daughter-in-law. Still Fujiwara did not move, though his face worked, and she decided he warranted no more words.

“Fetch in the last of them, please, Wuodan.”

Frige went with him, other couples going to lesser lords and they did it slowly, pacing forwards with dreadful and unhurried menace to cull all three from those around them as lesser dogs might a chosen deer from the herd. Fujiwara did have courage at the last, trying for dignity as fiery eyes and bared teeth forced him onwards, but by the time he had gathered himself enough to try to speak he was within the influence of the griffins, and she ignored the choked noise of his stifled lies.

“Thank you. The Hunt’s tally is complete. Judgement remains.”

And no god, whatever its number of legs, should be a prop for that. Arawn might not mind, but she did, and in any case had seen what Tobe was holding, as well as the hope on his face and bucket at his feet, and amusement bubbled in her heart. Leaning on the staff she dismounted, glad to find her legs would hold her, and scooped Kitten down so they could both make their bows of gratitude to the god who had borne them.

“Thank you, my lord.”

 _I thank you also. You have been very kind, and not at all annoying. And I feel better now, though I’m not sure why_.

_The threat against you is ended, little one, so you no longer fear a renewed need to kill. And you both are welcome. We hunted well together._

“We did, my lord. Would you wish to drink and be rubbed down?”

A deep, liquid eye regarded her with what might be surprise.

_Rubbed down? I was told you were unusually polite and interesting, but that is rich grazing indeed. Why not? My children enjoy it._

She didn’t have to summon Tobe, who was beaming as he trotted over to bow to Arawn, nor think about her answer to his quiet question.

“Prince Taikyuu?”

“If he wants, Tobe. Ask the Emperor’s permission first.”

In Yaman, as elsewhere, care of steeds was beneath no warrior’s dignity, and public labour would be more than offset by the identity of the laboured over, but she wasn’t going to start assuming anything now. Tobe walked ahead of Arawn as they went aside, and she took Kitten’s paw to lead her back to Diamondflame ; he opened a greater paw in welcome, and this time the dragonet bounced into it, much more her usual self, to the lightening of Kel’s heart. The great dragon’s eyes were warm on her, but it was Rainbow who spoke.

_That was very well done, Protector, and your care for all exemplary, as Moonwind and Jadewing inform us. You have even cared for yourself, which makes a change, but you should not hold that staff for very much longer._

“I know it, my lord, but justice must be done rightly. Guilt is determined, yet I would wish mortals who have no previous experience of the Hunt to be as certain as you who do. I know you can read mortal minds at will. Can you also relay what you read to the darkings, so they might display it for all to see?”

Blind eyes didn’t blink, though seeing ones might have done.

_Interesting. I have never done so before, but I cannot see why I should not. You mean for what all of these fools did to be shown?_

“All that is relevant, my lord — the decision they made and the orders they passed.”

_Very well. Will you join me, Diamondflame? Wingstar?_

Kel didn’t think spoken explanations were necessary, but did raise the staff, which brightened, as the darking huddle again flowed from Rainbow’s neck into the air, this time without Ebony or Button. The magic that leapt from all three dragons to envelop the guilty was plain for all to see, and the image that formed after a long moment was of a meeting. There was no sound, but Fujiwara, with his mother, brother, and wife, were plainly listening to the bitter complaints of Lord Shoji, his face mottled with rage. At the top of the image the date of the Tortallans’ arrival in Heian-Kyó appeared in _kanji_ , with a time late in the evening, so this was Shoji’s anger at her response to his rudeness, and even in silence she knew when the bitter old woman spoke her blunt words hovering between advice and command. _Kill it, whatever it is_ , she had said. _The Takuji can only be embarrassed, and we will have opportunity_.

Fujiwara had taken other advice before giving the order, but give it he had, to an allied lord, who instructed another, lesser lord, who summoned Yutaka noh Kuhaku ; who spoke to the assassin and captain of _ronin_ in his garden. And only yesterday, while she tasted pickles, Fujiwara had with his family summoned yet more allied lords, briefing them with a fierce expression and harsh words, overriding what doubts any might have had. Some had been reluctant, she realised, and believed it an ill-advised plot, but had waited silently on its success, prepared to act on it should it happen, and she closed her heart to their slim claims on mercy. With all the guilty shown, the display faded with the dragons’ magic, the darkings returned to earth, and she looked at the guilty, stumbling as magic spilled them back to their right senses. 

“So. The fiery eyes of the Wild Hunt, beyond all mortal capacity, have seen the guilt in your hearts and minds, and the Hunt cannot in its nature err in its prey. Dragon magic takes from your minds your own knowledge of your plot, and the darkings display it for all to see. Yet you stand between griffins, where none may lie, and can clear yourselves of all guilt with a simple denial, spoken aloud and clearly. Can any one of you say he or she did _not_ know before it happened that an attempt to assassinate the dragon kit would be made?”

Many tried to deny it, but none could, and the guttural croaks that were all they could manage only intensified the silence. She was going to ask them if they had anything true to say, but Fujiwara beat her to it, impotent rage turning on his mother, voice running free with truth.

“This is your doing, _kendou_. Your idea and your insistence. And see what comes of it and all your sour pride. Where is Fujiwara power now?”

“It is you who fail, stupid boy, weak as you are and have always been.”

Sick at heart and loathing both, Kel cut across their harsh voices.

“The griffins pass both your statements as true, and you will have infinite time to consider that sad fact. Neither affects your guilt, nor the thrice-proven guilt of all, nor the deaths you face in first payment for that guilt. Will any now speak a true confession, in hope of the Black God’s mercy?”

“I speak to no _gaijin_.” There was only hate in the old woman’s face.

“How very stupid. Lord Fujiwara? I allow you no death poem or rites, but you may speak clearly, once, of what you did and why.”

“What is the point, _gaijin_? The Takuji strips us of power, as his father did. We had to strike back.”

Disgusted, she turned to face the Emperor on the daïs, face utterly still, and raised her voice for what she devoutly hoped was the last time.

“The chain is complete, and all have seen it, from one poisonous old woman to men devoid of honour and an assassin whose soul a royal stormwing calls empty. Because His Imperial Majesty’s emblem is a dragon, the plan was to kill Lady Skysong in hope of embarrassing him.” Her rage was absolute, as it had to be for this. “Think on that, Yaman, one and all. To _kill_ — to kill a _child_ — in hope to _embarrass_. Of Lady Skysong’s importance none had the least idea, but of her innocence all knew, and to them in their ambitions it meant nothing. Nor have any, even now, knowing themselves condemned, sough to offer apology to Lady Skysong, or Amiir’aan, or His Imperial Majesty for their treason in seeking to murder his guest. And there are the spidrens and samurai who died defending other guests, for whom all these must also answer. The only sentence I can pass merely begins the payment for such a crime, and all these guilty must pass now to the Black God’s care. And as I know his mercy infinite, I do not ask it for the least of them. Threats to myself I can forgive, but threats to a child, never.” She turned one final time, facing Rainbow. “The sentence is necessarily death, my lords. Shall I act for you in this also?”

 _No, Protector._ She knew Rainbow knew her relief, and couldn’t have cared less. _You deliver to us those responsible for Skysong’s near death and distress, and young Amiir’aan’s. The rest must fall to us, and responsibility has been apportioned. Do you stand back, now._

She did, the griffins rising and padding to flank her when she stopped, ten yards from the guilty, huddled together, the trussed assassin lying before Fujiwara’s feet. The staff was radiant in her hand, and without any further signal she was aware of, stormwings sent a focused wash of fear that twisted guilty faces into horror, a containing funnel of dragon magic leaped from Rainbow, and the terrible rumbling shriek of the rock-spell burst from Haarist’aaniar’aan. Basilisks’ power, some part of Kel’s mind observed, must wax with age and size, for there was no progressive graying, as she had seen when Var’istaan petrified the giant ; one second the guilty were flesh, then all were stone, so dark a grey it looked black, and she knew it would not weather. But she knew something else, that she had wondered about when she thought through this possible death. Echoes faded, and shielding magic vanished.

_Thank you, Haarist’aaniar’aan, and you, Protector, on behalf of all. Justice is done. And we advise you, Daichi noh Takuji, that we chose this method of serving it that you might display the results for all to see, as years pass and personal memory fades. The dragons seek conflict with none, in this realm or any, but are no pawns for mortals to sacrifice in furtherance of their own ends. Nor will we permit any threat to our kits. That is all._

He might have risen, but she raised the staff. She knew she was very close to the limits she could endure, but a small pulse should be enough.

“One thing more, my lords. Souls yet reside within the stone, caught in Haarist’aaniar’aan’s merciful speed, but I would have them face the Black God now.” She hadn’t known if the dragons would object, but none spoke, and she half-thought Rainbow embarrassed not to have foreseen the problem. The staff pulsed with her will. “Dabeyoun, will you take them where they must go, of your grace?”

She thought he’d be watching anyway, if only for entertainment, and silver flared at once ; but inevitably the Hag came with him, cocking her head at Kel, who sighed and bowed, eliciting a cackle. She was aware of Yamanis kneeling even as they gaped at the appearance of a hyena.

“Well, dearie, you _have_ been a busy girl, and Da rather wants those souls, so Dabeyoun will oblige. He doesn’t care for it, though. Never has. Says basilisk stone sticks in his teeth.”

Kel knelt, and Dabeyoun leaned into her offered caress.

“Does it? I’m sorry. We’ll do you a bone feast back at New Hope as soon as we can.” She glanced up. “And one for you too, High One, if you’d like, in payment of your trouble.”

“A feast? Maybe.” One starry eye considered her. “We should get on with this. You’re going to keel right over when you release that staff.”

“I know it, High One.” She didn’t need to say anything more to Dabeyoun, who padded across to the statues with a resigned look, thrust his head into the assassin and started dragging out the soul — which had a very surprised expression. Kel knew only the staff enabled her to see it, and that to draw power for others would be too much, but cocked her own head at the Hag in turn.

“Might you enable all to share your vision, High One, setting a seal to this justice, and your brother Sakuyo’s jest?”

“A seal?” She cackled again. “Not yet, dearie, by a ways. He’s still got his dedication to look forward to, and perfectly insufferable about it he is too. But for all that you’ve a point, and we might as well be thorough.” Silver flared from her. “Look well, mortals, while you can.”

Expressions told Kel people were doing just that, and it was a thing to see — and to hear, as Dabeyoun told the assassin there were a _lot_ of people wanting to see _him_ , and silenced the old woman’s cry as she found herself dragged back into air with his own pealing laugh. And there was one heart-wrenching moment when Fujiwara’s wife came free of her stone corpse, rose shakily, and looked straight at Kel.

“With death my vows are void.” She took a clear pace away from a blank-faced Fujiwara. “And being free of them, I will apologise to the dragon, if I may.”

Heart aching, Kel only gestured assent, and under Dabeyoun’s ironic eye the dead woman crossed to Kitten, still in Diamondflame’s paw, and knelt, hanging her head.

“I did not desire your death, lady, and am glad you survived. Forgive my silence and the vows that held me so, I beg.”

Kit’s gaze found Kel for a moment, then she nodded, mindvoice clear to all.

_I do. Tell the Black God that of all these who sought to kill me, I forgive you alone, and ask him to tell the man I killed that I regret my need, though he forced it on me. You should apologise to Amiir’aan too._

Kel didn’t think the dead _could_ cry, but the woman’s soul looked as if she would as she rose, curtseyed, and went to Amiir’aan. He too forgave, and followed Kit in asking for those he had killed to know his regret, but more in friendship to the dragonet than his own need, Kel thought, for he already knew himself a predator, and lacked Kit’s instilled inhibitions about using the fire-spell. The Hag shook her head.

“Very touching, I’m sure, but enough’s enough.” At her gesture a silver archway flared with nothing visible through it save a swirling greyness Kel remembered all too well, but for all her gruffness the Hag let the woman walk through it first and alone, vanishing with some semblance of dignity, before Dabeyoun’s commanding snarl had the other souls stumbling forward in a panicked pack to vanish after her. He followed without pause, but the Hag gave Kel a last glance as the archway faded.

“Enjoy your nap, dearie. You’ve done more good than harm today. Again. It’s quite impressive. Oh, and His Nibs’ll be in touch soon enough. Nice one, that. Even His Spearness was amused.”

Then she was gone too, and there was great and growing weariness in Kel as her gestures summoned Dom from beside the daïs and Tobe from the side of a thoroughly groomed Arawn. Leaning on the staff, she crossed to Wuodan and the Hunt.

“The Hunt is over. All have my thanks, and I ask that you convey them also to Lord Weiryn and Lord Mithros.”

Couple by couple, as they had come, they leaped silver into darkness, and with only Wuodan and Frige left, her husband and son came to her.

“All over now, but I think you’re going to have to catch me when I let go of the staff.”

Dom nodded, love and something else in his eyes. “I bet. How long?”

“I’ve no idea, but a fair while, I expect.”

She had spoken quietly, but Diamondflame’s voice came from behind her and she knew Dom and Tobe could hear it also.

_I can sustain you for a moment, Protector, but longer would not be wise._

She tried to think. “Can you open a way to the house we’re in?”

_Certainly._

“Then away we go.”

That wasn’t quite what she’d meant to say, but she was happy to hold out the staff, murmuring thanks as Wuodan took it in his mouth and she let go. Dragonmagic held her up, a hot trickle of power in utterly leaden limbs, and more of it opened yet another arch through which she could see the garden before the Dower House, with a startled guard peering back at her. It was only a few steps, and with one hand in Dom’s grasp and the other on Tobe’s shoulder she made them, wondering what anyone would make of such an abrupt exit but quite unable to care about it. The guard bowed, dragon magic vanished, and she didn’t have the energy even to cry out as the world went black.


	7. Consequences

**Six : Consequences**

_Heian-Kyó & Suzuoka, 25–30  March_

 

The first thing Kel was aware of was that she was acutely thirsty, her whole body feeling parched. A faint redness before her eyes suggested daylight, and she cautiously opened them, feeling the grittiness of sleep in her lashes but welcoming the early morning sunlight splashing on the cheerful blanket that covered her.

“Awake at last, love? About time. Here, drink. You need it.”

She smiled muzzily at Dom as he helped her sit up, muscles protesting, and held a beaker to her lips. Watered fruit juice cleared mouth and throat, and she could feel her body’s relief as she swallowed. Memory seeped back as she drank.

“How long?”

“Two nights and the day between. It’s the morning of the twenty-sixth.” He refilled the beaker from a jug and gave it back to her. “Drink. I’ll get food.”

As soon as he said it she knew she was also starving hungry. “Yes, please. I missed lunch, didn’t I? And dinner.”

“Twice over, but it’s not just that, Kel.” He opened the door, leaning through to speak quietly to someone, and closed it again, returning to sit on the edge of her bed, jug ready to refill the beaker again. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, love — ten pounds at least. I was having kittens when I put you to bed, but Alanna said she thought it was just a side-effect, and you’d be alright with some feeding-up.”

Guilt hit Kel like a brick as she realised her breasts were as parched as the rest of her. “The twins!”

“Sh, it’s alright. The wetnurse is coping well enough, and if your milk doesn’t come back with food and drink, you can ask the Green Lady.”

That was an unusually practical note for him when it came to the divine, and though he smiled at her look she could see strain in his face.

“Even old sergeants learn, love, when they get hit hard enough. And Alanna’s been generally bracing, and in high good humour watching everyone running about like chickens.”

“Oh?”

“Oh. What did you expect?”

“I didn’t get that far.” She frowned, drinking deeply again. “Except that the Emperor’s hands would be clean, and everyone ought to be feeling more cautious about irritating immortals or the gods, so I hoped politics would look after themselves for once.”

His laugh was welcome, but laced with more than humour.

“Only you, love. Though they are, I suppose, more or less.”

“What’s the more? Or the less?”

“Well, Diamondflame’s still here — napping in the garden, actually, with Kit. He says he wants a word with Lord Sakuyo, and it’s easiest to do that at the dedication, apparently. For which we have to leave tomorrow. Haarist’aaniar’aan is still here as well, wandering the city with Amiir’aan and others amid much astonishment. So are the stormwings, also in high fettle, having stuffed themselves and then some. But the other dragons left immediately, and Arawn, to Tobe’s disappointment.”

“I bet. Mmm. I think he said he’d be visiting Peachblossom sometime, though. And bother. I meant to ask him about mule gods, but I forgot.”

This laugh was more genuine. “Good to know you forgot something, love. It’s not as if you missed much else. And Diamondflame or Haarist’aaniar’aan will know, surely?”

“That’s a thought. I half-expected Junior to nip through with the stormwings, actually. His Nibs did put him in all the paintings.”

Dom stared and shook his head to clear it. “Thanks the gods for small mercies, eh? And more for larger ones. Though preferably somewhere else.” He swept her into a tight hug. “I know you were being careful, for you, but all the same, love. You outdid yourself this time.”

“Did I? It was just — ”

“I’m sure it was. And yes, you did. So you’re going to have a problem with Yamanis being quite impossibly respectful, for which you can’t honestly blame them.”

That was unhappily true, she supposed, and Dom let her go as a knock heralded Tobe with of all things an oversize bowl of porridge, liberally topped with honey. Her mouth watered, but she gave him a hug before beginning to eat with a sigh of relief.

“There’s more if you want, Ma. Hot rolls and bacon will be along soon.”

“Marvellous. Thank you. Are you all right?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You took all the costs, again, didn’t you?”

“Only what I had to, Tobe.”

She remembered how the staff’s power had felt, a river eroding as it flowed, and between mouthfuls tried to explain what she’d done, husbanding resources and using the innate power of hounds and horse god, stormwings and dragons, to spare herself.

“I asked Wuodan, too, before I took the staff, and he said a mortal had led the Hunt before, more than once, and it was perfectly survivable unless I did something very stupid.”

“Interesting. You make it all sound quite sensible, somehow.” Alanna had been leaning in the doorway, listening, and came forward. “I smelt bacon frying, so I thought you might be awake. How are you, Kel, other than way too skinny?”

“Hungry. Thirsty. Relieved.” She swallowed the last of the porridge, reflecting, as Tobe took the empty bowl and promised to return with bacon rolls. “Baffled by Fujiwara’s stupidity. Horrified by his mother. Appalled by the implications of what his wife thought she could say only after she was dead.”

“Stupidity?”

“Gods, yes. He’d read the ‘Note’ so he must have read Diamondflame’s warning. And he still didn’t quite believe in dragons, because it was too convenient for the Emperor.”

“Point. But was Runnerspring any blinder? Or Stone Mountain? I agree with you about his mother, though — she was a piece of work. So does Eitaro, who was insistent we call him as soon as you were awake. Feeling up to it?”

“If I have to be. What’s so important?”

“You did rearrange the realm, Kel, and there are consequences. The brother was childless, legitimately at any rate, so any Fujiwara heirs left alive are distant cousins and the Emperor’s got the same problem you handed Jon last year with vacant fiefs. And the priests are running in circles, of course, wild with shocked curiosity. But the major thing is just showing you alive and well, I think. For all Diamondflame explained you only needed a long nap, there was considerable confusion after your spectacular exit. And a certain amount of trouble.”

Tobe had arrived with a tray, and Kel was piling into an unutterably delicious bacon roll, but that stopped her mid-chew and Alanna waved a hand.

“Eat. It wasn’t bad, but as you made very clear just what Fujiwara had risked, and whose rage he incurred, a _lot_ of people weren’t best pleased with him or the other lords and the go-between fellow. Kravimal and the Imperial Guard put a stop to it — with some help — but not before Fujiwara’s compound and some others were burned out.”

Kel closed her eyes, swallowing guilt and seeking balance. “Deaths?”

“Remarkably, no. The servants all seem to have fled after you had Jadewing knock the gates down. Nice one. And the help was a _very_ localised thunderstorm that doused flames and ardour alike.” Alanna’s face cracked in a wide grin. “The angry people took themselves off in a hurry to His Nibs’s temple to be apologetic and thankful, and yesterday was very quiet, even at the samurai funerals and spidren cremations, which the imperials all attended. And the stormwings. The trees have abruptly started blossoming in earnest, too, which seems to have cheered everyone up. But the guards say there have been regular delegations of all sorts making respectful enquiries, so you need to show yourself up and about.”

“Haven’t I done that quite enough already?” Kel was relieved to have missed the funerals, but felt she shouldn't be.

“Not a chance, Kel.” Face more serious, Alanna sat on the other side of the bed, taking her hand. “More than anyone could ever ask, but that won’t stop them, as you know perfectly well. And for my money a bigger balance is tipping. Piers is humming and hawing, but Ilane agrees, and Eitaro’s inclined to. News of that pickle-tithe of yours seems to have gone round the … whatever you’d call the Lower City here, like wildfire. And some incident with a priest you didn’t tell me about, as well as the way you and the immortals thank servants. I don’t know much about Yamani history, but it’s plainly been emperor and nobles over commoners, all the way. And one reason Fujiwara was protected was that if the Emperor had moved openly against him, as he half-wanted to, he’d have faced revolt from other magnates, not because they supported Fujiwara especially but in defence of their own prerogatives. Same reason Jon couldn’t send troops into Stone Mountain for Joren, or Runnerspring for Garvey, really. But things have changed, and not only because the Fujiwara clan’s one big statue and noble privilege in tatters, but because you’ve lined up emperor and people against a wrong that rests squarely with nobles. Right now it’s only here in the city, but word is spreading fast and almost everyone’s becoming quite thoughtful.”

Kel was having difficulty thinking this one through, but some of it made sense, of a sort. She’d known she was cutting across the usual lines of Yamani society, impatient with its often stifling protocols, and she remembered the impulse that had made her thank that first Daidairi servant, kneeling by the carriage, and the perch-carriers. But the notion of engineering a new political balance of powers and classes had never crossed her mind. And for all her fairness she was no revolutionary, but herself an ennobled landowner, happy with military discipline as well as noble hierarchy. But then again, much as she loved Yaman there were plenty of customs she’d cheerfully abandon, from face paint to _seppuku_ , and perhaps — just maybe, but she thought things pointed that way — Lord Sakuyo would too. But he still remained the great unknown.

“Um. What makes you think it’s a tipping-point, not just some temporary thing?”

“It could be either, Kel, for all I know. But underneath his genuine concern for you, I think that’s why Eitaro wants to see you as soon as he can. He knows there’s a moment to seize, and he wants to seize it.”

“And the Emperor?”

“Who knows? I surely don’t. Jon and Thayet have spoken to him, but if they have any clue they haven’t said, only that he’s been busy making sure true word is spread far and wide, especially to Fujiwara and allied lands that are, if only temporarily, in imperial administration. Oh, and Jon told him to have his messengers use gods’ oaths, which they are, amid much extra-loud chiming.” Alanna’s grin returned. “Cloestra and some of the others have been helping out with mountain villages round and about, when they aren’t making lewd jokes about how many more playfellows for Amourta all this will have produced, and every last one thinks it’s hysterical for stormwings to be acknowledged by gods.”

A third bacon roll was much nicer to think about, and three females of the Stone Tree Nation were already incubating eggs at New Hope, from the energy Maggur’s death had given them. Almost Kel’s only regret about coming to Yaman had been that she’d miss their hatchings, and probably already had — when she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the dams’ faces among those who’d come. But amid all the nonsense, she felt a decision crystallise.

“None of that is my problem, Alanna, whatever anyone thinks. But yes, of course I’ll see Prince Eitaro, though not before I’ve had a wash and a _lot_ more bacon rolls, and seen the twins. And talked to Diamondflame. But the thing is, the Emperor should be there, too. It’s his decision, in the end. And Jonathan and Thayet, as peers who’ve faced something similar. So let’s invite them all to mid-morning tea.”

Her continuing hunger, fed by relays from an increasingly surprised kitchen, made for slow progress, and there were a lot of people wanting reassurance of her well-being — her parents, Patricine and Toshuro with her nephew and nieces, Neal and Yuki, Roald and Shinko, Jonathan and Thayet, and the guard who had seen her collapse into Dom’s arms like an empty sack, and helped carry her inside. Cricket had a wariness in her eyes, as if Kel might summon some other divine being at any moment, but Neal was blessedly unsubdued, saying in his blandest voice that he was greatly looking forward to telling the Stump about her most recent mount ; the twins were a balm also, and though she couldn’t feed them as she desperately wanted to do, she could hold them, and feel their satisfaction at the return of a familiar scent and voice.

She also made it out to see Diamondflame, snoozing in — or on — the front gardens of the Dower House, Kitten curled within one great paw. The blossom _had_ started, too, and though the full glory would be a while yet the gardens looked and smelt wonderful, and she breathed satisfaction. The guards were at a respectful distance, and servants taking a wide detour with wider eyes, but as soon as Kel, on Dom’s arm, was close enough, one huge eye opened, then the other, and the great head lifted.

_Protector. How are you feeling?_

“Well enough, thank you, my lord, though I seem to have lost some weight.”

 _I imagine you have. You pushed it, a little, in summoning Dabeyoun. And I am sorry we did not consider that petrification would trap souls._ He sounded quite apologetic. _It is long and long since we last had to consider such a thing._

Kel waved a hand. “No, please. It is I who owe thanks. The one thing I was truly dreading was having to execute them myself and grant them the Black God’s grace. And I’d thought about the possibility of petrification, and decided Dabeyoun would probably be watching.”

_So I realised. I have said it before, Keladry, but you are a most clear-sighted mortal. Admirably so._

Their voices woke Kitten, and as protective claws uncurled she squealed welcome and bounced into Kel’s hastily curved arms.

“Ooof!”

_Kel! How are you? I thought you would never wake up. You have lost a lot of weight._

“I’m fine, Kit, but yes, I have. Divine power isn’t very good for mortal flesh. More importantly, how are you?”

 _I am still a little sad, but otherwise much better._ Kit’s mindvoice slowed, for once. _I knew I had the right to defend myself, but it made me feel as if I had eaten something rotten. I told Grandsire I had talked to the basilisks, as you recommended, and he said that was very sensible, but I should also talk to you because you too had used dragonfire to kill. I knew that but I hadn’t thought about it properly. You also felt very bad about having to do it, didn’t you?_

“Yes I did, Kit. I was sick to my stomach for days after. But your grandsire didn’t gift me dragonfire without good reason, and I didn’t use it without good reason. Sometimes we have to do bad things in a good cause, and then pick ourselves up and go on. There’s no point repining.”

_True. But …_

The hesitation was uncharacteristic, and Kel raised an eyebrow. “What?”

_I was just thinking that the Fujiwara man said he had to do what he did, too._

Kel blew out a breath. “So he did, Kit, but there’s two things. One is that he was just wrong. He didn’t _have_ to — it wasn’t life and death, just hope of advantage. And the other is that if he’d succeeded, he wouldn’t have felt sorry or sick at all, just pleased with himself. I know this seems odd, but when it comes to doing bad things, _why_ you do them and how you regret them matters as much as doing them at all.”

_I will think about that._

“You do, Kit, and get back to me.”

_I will. Oh, and the Emperor asked me if they might call that ryujin dragon Skysong after me. Grandsire says there are advantages but it is up to me. What do you think?_

Kel blinked and thought hard. “Mmm. Your grandsire is very right about the advantages, Kit — it will make them remember what happened, as much as the statues. And while he can’t undo what’s done, His Imperial Majesty is trying very hard to make amends. He wouldn’t make that offer lightly. So unless you have a strong reason to think the _ryujin_ should have a different name, I think you should accept graciously and be very pleased with the honour.”

_I will think about that too._

“Good. And meanwhile” — her eyes went to Diamondflame’s, aware of his ironic approval — “I really don’t mean to pry, my lord, and I see why you want to speak to Lord Sakuyo, but may I ask if you have any other concern here? I’m about to speak to His Imperial Majesty and he’s bound to ask. I have my own concerns, for the Guild, but wouldn’t for the world cause you any difficulty if I can help it.”

Great eyes regarded her thoughtfully. _I have two tasks, to convey our thanks to a god, which is a sensitive matter ; and to hear what he says when Skysong conveys the thanks she owes him for her life. Beyond that, I have no objection to reminding mortals why dragons are to be respected. Torpid in our own lands, we forget how swiftly mortal lives pass and memories fade. Some lessons for the living are not amiss. And I confess myself curious about this temple. Basilisk and ogre involvement in mortal worship, however indirectly, is a new thing it behoves us to understand._

That was a long speech for Diamondflame, not given to loquacity, and Kel took a moment to ponder it.

“Thank you, my lord, that is clear. One other question, if you will? Moonwind said even a rock could see the Timeway still about me, but this rock cannot. I had thought that all done. Might you instruct me better?”

_Moonwind is given to exaggeration, even in thought. But she was not altogether wrong. The Timeway has so many echoes partly because it is not only where what will be becomes what is, but also because it is where what has been makes what will be — in continuance or in reversal. In you the future rejects the near past, cleaving to older truths, and chance placed you at the heart of the Timeway’s greatest roil in many centuries, where much was consummated and much reversed. Such a roil has many eddies persisting long after its crisis has passed, and this is one, extending the decisions made last year._

That was another long speech, and uncommonly helpful. Kel was wondering why, without much success, when Dom gently prodded her.

“Try gratitude and respect, love.”

Her startled indignation was swept aside by Diamondflame’s rich laugh, like fire in the wind.

_Ah, Domitan, you grow most perceptive. Yet it is one of your delights, Keladry, that you achieve wonders yet ever wonder why any might be grateful. Consider all that you alone among living mortals understand from experience, and that I adore my granddaughter, not least for what you have helped make her. And there is this — that while Sakuyo doubtless had many reasons for acting as he did, one among them is that he would not have enjoyed facing you after her death, knowing full well that you would never forgive him any more than yourself._

That was three long speeches, and Kel retired in some confusion, giving an inexplicably amused Dom sidelong glances that bothered him not at all. The idea of the Timeway having eddies made sense, though why it had ever rested on her at all remained a sore puzzle, but the notion that Lord Sakuyo feared her unforgiveness was — honesty prodded — gratifying, if deeply absurd. Rumination was interrupted by her Mama.

“There you are, sweeting. I’ve recruited Akemi, Katsumi, and Akiko to help Tobeis serve, and the housekeeper’s hauled out a stunning tea-set of the Emperor’s late mother’s.” Ilane seamlessly detached Kel from Dom’s arm, substituting her own and surveying her daughter with an entirely maternal look. “You look cross. Was Diamondflame giving you a hard time about something? I can’t see why he should.”

“Not at all, Mama. He was extremely helpful.”

“Ah. So you’re puzzling about why, I suppose.”

Dom grinned. “I did tell her, Ilane, but to be fair it was heady stuff. And his laugh is … disconcerting.”

“He laughed? Oh, my. Because Kel was puzzled by his gratitude?”

“In one.”

“But of course he’s grateful, sweeting. So is everyone, beneath their shock. You were wonderful, and terrifying, and splendid, all at once, and you didn’t leave anyone a single inch of wiggle-room. Diplomatic justice with more teeth than he cared to count, your papa says, and I agree entirely. And with divine power heaped all over you, not one thought of yourself. I didn’t think I could be prouder than I was watching you being created as a countess, but you proved me wrong.” Ilane gurgled a laugh. “And Jonathan’s rising to the occasion, despite mixed feelings. Prodded by Thayet, I fancy, but even so. He told the Emperor flat out, in modeless Yamani, to stop being so respectful and start thinking practically, so you owe him some thanks.”

“Mmmph.”

Ilane laughed again. “Then again, he’ll be cheered to see you so discombobulated, so it all works out marvellously well. Though if you’re really baffled, you’re not thinking clearly. What _did_ you expect, sweeting?”

Kel had no better answer than for Dom, but her grumpiness dissolved when she saw the tea-set, which _was_ stunning. The cups were marvels of simplicity, in pure shape and subtle, monochrome glaze, and there were no less than four matching, side-handled pots as well as a caddy and scoop, and a kettle, big enough to fill all the pots, that had a built-in heating spell. She made a mental note to investigate how that was done, but had her hands full reassuring the children, pleasingly more nervous about serving the Emperor than about the strange capacities of their aunt.

She had been saving her glorious green kimonos for the dedication, but this tea ceremony demanded them, and with her Mama’s help, clucking at her gauntness, she had a proper Yamani appearance (saving only face paint) to greet her guests. The Emperor had brought the Empress and Taikyuu, as well as Eitaro, and with the royals, Alanna, and her parents, as well as Dom, it was a wide circle that sat on the cushions in the Dower House’s beautifully proportioned tea-room. As was proper in an assisted service, she scooped tea into pots and filled and whisked them herself, drawing in and projecting calm, but was seated for Tobe to fill her own cup last. She gestured to the hanging scrolls in their niches with single flowers beneath, and took the first, ritual sip.

“Peace be with you all.”

As first guest, the Emperor properly responded. “And with you.”

This was only _chakai_ , not _chaji_ with its obligatory meal, but some of Yuki’s pickles were on offer in basilisk bowls, and she offered an apology for her own larger bowl of _umeboshi_.

“I have been left with a hunger that is not easily sated.”

“So we hear.” The Empress sipped, praising the tea. “I hope you suffer no other ill-effects from your astonishing labours?”

“None, my Empress, as Wuodan assured me I would not.” There was no help for it, and no point delaying. “I hope the realm has not suffered.”

“On the contrary, Keladry- _chan_.” She heard the Emperor’s choice of the simplest address with relief. “We are much in your debt.”

“Forgive contradiction, but that is not so, my Emperor. I acted in the Guild’s interests, and while I rejoice if Yaman benefits also, I can claim no credit for that happy chance.”

“Yet you took much care Yaman should understand and accept what passed, even to asking a god to grant us her vision.”

“And such a vision. I would thank you for Lady Noriko’s grace also.” The Empress sighed. “I did not know her well, for she was older than I and circumstances kept us apart, but I knew that with such a mother-in-law her marriage must be ever hard duty and never joy.”

“So I imagine, my Empress. I am sorry it was not possible to frame the Hunt’s charge to exclude her, but she was more willing to hold to her vows in wrong than cleave to honour. Even so, the Black God will not regret a reason to be merciful among so many reasons to judge harshly.” She remembered feeling it in his temple, and Dabeyoun’s words to the assassin. “Would I be right to think the _kamunushi_ Hotaka was the one who challenged Lord Fujiwara’s piety?”

“Indeed so.”

“And Goro noh Toshiaki?”

The Emperor’s face darkened. “One I would have appointed to the ministry Lord Shoji controlled, though ever leaving the work to others. A man of great energy, honour, and promise, sorely missed. And the assassin’s fuller confession answered many bitter questions, so that is also among our debts to you.” He took a breath. “Jonathan advises plain speaking, so I will say that how the least is to be paid baffles me.”

“But I claim no payment, my Emperor, nor acknowledge any debt.”

“Why not, Keladry- _chan_? You have almost certainly saved Us a civil war, ridding us of a blight and avenging Our honour far more swiftly and terribly than We could ever have done. And I would fear the gods’ accounting if I did not insist on what I owe.”

“Mmm.” That was tricky. Kel ate a plum, pondering the pronouns, and noticed the ironic amusement on Jonathan’s face as Shinko translated for him. “Can you now tell me of your dream, my Emperor?”

“Yes. And dreams, for many came. One recurred, showing me with you and all my guests on the road to Edo, with a great sense of tranquility. The others varied, but all showed me speaking to you here in the palace, explaining the politics that have beset you, and all were accompanied with a profound foreboding of ill. So it seemed you must come, and I must be silent. I believed it meant you must be given a free hand, not recruited to my aid, however tempting, and I am now sure of it.” He frowned. “It is not easy to explain, but say perhaps that whatever I told you would have constrained you, and your actions that proved needful and correct were beyond anything I could have imagined.”

Kel was frowning herself. “Needful, yes, but correct? Lord Sakuyo accepted that the harm intended Lady Skysong could not go unpunished, but I cannot suppose my actions what he wanted. I was expedient, guided only by the Guild’s needs and what I thought could answer them.”

Eitaro inclined his head. “Even so, Keladry- _chan_ , my brother did not speak amiss. Lord Sakuyo having accepted your actions and aided your ends, how can they be anything but correct? And I would ask if you might tell us of his aid to the dragons — it was when Lord Rainbow acknowledged it that his thunder first sounded.”

Kel shook her head gently. “That is no mortal business, my Prince, nor within my knowledge. As our presence affirms the treaty embodied in Roald and Shinkokami, so perhaps Lord Sakuyo’s aid to a dragon kit affirms whatever understanding between gods and dragons came of building Drachifethe. I doubt any will discuss it, and asking would not be wise, but Diamondflame told me we are in an eddy of the Timeway, extending what he called last year’s decisions, and it likes its echoes.”

“He did?” The Emperor waited while Akiko refilled his cup. “That is new. I know of the Timeway only what Jonathan has told me.”

“Only gods and oldest immortals know more, my Emperor, and what I was told came as news to me also.”

“Yet you know enough to speak of it liking echoes. Keladry- _chan_ , I ask openly for advice, though Jonathan warns me it is likely to be simple, direct, and terrifying.”

“Advice about what, my Emperor? It is a dangerous commodity. And as I have told His Majesty, he only finds my ideas as he describes them because he prefers complex inaction to simple action.”

A Takuji gave a Conté a look when that was translated, and they exchanged smiles Kel couldn’t begin to interpret.

“He has my sympathies. And your actions are anything but simple, Keladry- _chan_.”

“Once again, forgive contradiction, but not so, my Emperor. I had to deal with lies, silence, and hidden guilt. Griffins ensured truth, stormwings speech, and the Hunt discovery. The situation was complex. My actions brought simplicity.”

The Emperor was not alone in blinking surprise, but Shinko gave Kel a small smile oddly full of pain.

“As I told you, Uncle, and my esteemed father-in-law knows, Keladry- _chan_ truly believes what she does straightforward. Sir Nealan says it has always been so, and calls it ‘see bully, smite bully, no excuses’.”

Prince Taikyuu spoke for the first time, shrewdness blending with curiosity. “I can see you did bring simplicity, Blessed Keladry- _sensei_ , though most strangely, but there was more. To have Blessed Tobeis invite me to aid him with Lord Arawn answered no need of yours.”

“Tobe’s idea, not mine, my Prince. You share a love of horses. And to offer Lord Arawn proper treatment seemed simple courtesy, which I find all gods to appreciate. I asked Tobe to check with your Imperial father because I could not deal with any political complexity arising.”

“But it was politically superb, Keladry- _chan_.” Eitaro stared bafflement. “Taikyuu could re-establish our respect for all gods, that Michizane smirched.”

“Could he, my Prince? Well and good, but I thought of a sweating horse’s need, after he had in kindness borne me and Kit, of a child’s pleasure in a most magnificent animal, and for me those were more than enough. Any greater rightness only magnifies their truth.”

Translation bought a laugh from Jonathan. “You see, Daichi?”

“I begin to, Jonathan. But I would still have advice, Keladry- _chan_.”

“And have not yet said about what, my Emperor.”

“What I should best do now.”

“Go to Edo and see what happens.” Kel had her own bafflement at such vagueness, but relented at Shinko’s hurt look. “My Emperor, I _cannot_ advise you in any detail unless you set out the problem, and even then I would remain ignorant of much that might matter greatly. But if you want philosophy, be bold and honest, thinking of Yaman beyond the security of your own house. An eddy of the Timeway has brought a degree of change. Help it mature into a new stability.”

“Yes. But how?” The Emperor waved a hand. “Blessed Piers- _sama_ , you can explain better than me.”

Kel looked at her Papa, sensing his doubts.

“I can try, my Emperor. I believe Alanna has told you of her thoughts, my dear? I am still uncertain, but she is right you have begun to have the same effect on commoners here as on the Lower City in Corus. And as that did much to, ah … the Tortallan would be _stymie_ , any objections nobles had to your, um, various elevations, so the popular rage with the late Lord Fujiwara and his allies, revealed and unleashed by your judgement on him, has, well, played its own part in concentrating minds, one might say.”

Her Mama sensibly took over, more straightforwardly. “Forgive bluntness, my Emperor, and my language.” She dropped into Tortallan. “He’s not unwilling, sweeting, but he has amazingly little experience of his own commoners. What he wants is your touch in winning hearts as well as minds.”

Kel saw Eitaro murmur translation or commentary, and the Emperor’s and Empress’s rueful agreement. This at least was a clear problem, and she bent her mind to it, reaching for a plum only to discover she’d eaten them all. Hunger gnawed, and several thoughts coalesced.

“Alright, Mama.” She switched back to Yamani. “Akemi- _chan_ , more _umeboshi_ , please, ridiculous as my need is.” Her niece cursteyed, with an admiring glint in her eyes, and trotted out with the empty bowl. “Tell me, my Emperor, if you will, do you like _karaage_?”

The dish of cubed meats and seafood, battered and deep fried, was a workingman’s and soldier’s staple, despised at noble tables for its meat and cheap popularity. She saw his eyes widen in surprise and narrow in memory.

“I haven’t had it in years, Keladry- _chan_ , but do you know, I used to? The guards on winter duty always ate it, and the smell was most appetising. I asked one of my personal bodyguards — I was five or six, I think — and he brought me some. It was delicious, but I was made to understand by the tutor who found me eating it that such tastes were most unbecoming.”

“Is that tutor still alive, my Emperor?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, if he is, you should summon him and tell him he’s an idiot. I wonder …. mmm. Tobe, could you please ask one of the guards if Mama Moriko still has a stall on Rokujo-oji that serves the best _karaage_ in the province? If she does, ask Diamondflame if he’s hungry at all, then if Kit’s told him about those hot peppers she liked so much. And explain we’ll _all_ be going to Mama Moriko’s, including the Emperor, so would he care to come with us?” Tobe nodded, and went. “And though it may come to naught, my Emperor, might you summon a scribe?”

Eitaro was already seeing to it, and Kel’s attention was distracted by her Mama’s laugh.

“Was that what you were always sneaking out for, sweeting? I knew you were up to something but I didn’t think of _karaage_.”

“Usually. There was _suzukema-ichi_ too.” Kel’s gaze found Cricket’s, pleased to see her stifling a laugh ; she too had loved Mama Moriko’s _karaage_ , unable to sneak out herself but supplied by Kel and Yuki when they could manage it. “But it was also just getting away for a while, to be normal. Life in the Daidairi was wonderful, but stifling. Training with Naruko- _sensei_ was an outlet for energy, but not heart or stomach. And all of Rokujo-oji was a joy.”

Dividing the bureaucratic, religious, and imperial northern city from middle-class merchant areas, the wide cross-street hosted hundreds of food-stalls where labourers and thousands of minor bureaucrats and _kamunushi_ , as well as imperial guardsmen, sought food they didn’t have to go home to eat, nor cook themselves.

“I suppose it must have been, my dear.” Her father looked reminiscent. “I confess to sending embassy servants for _karaage_ every now and then. I did miss meat dishes. But I never dared go myself — being discovered would have been too great a liability as a diplomat.”

“But not, in this moment, as a politician, Papa.”

“Mmm. No, indeed. What an interesting thought.” He switched to Tortallan. “Somewhat as if His Majesty had lunch in the Daymarket.”

Kel followed suit. “Which you ought to, sire. If you and Thayet ate in the Daymarket once a month, or even once a week, using an honour guard but accepting the Rogue’s protection, you’d find it generated a surprising personal affection, and loyalty. _And_ you’d get the best bubbly pies in Tortall, bar none. Ask Roald.”

“No fair, Kel.” But Roald was grinning. “You’re right about those pies, though. Fancy’s all very well for feasts, but you can’t beat a good bubbly pie.”

Jonathan had a remniscent look of his own. “Actually, I remember them well. And Gary insisting on a fresh one and burning his tongue.”

Alanna laughed. “So did you, Jon, at least once. And Raoul often, though he could eat them hotter than I ever managed.” She sobered. “But Kel’s superbly right, yet again. You’ve done formal stuff in the Lower City, with grants for improvements in the Protector’s name, and that’s good, but you haven’t yet done informal.”

“Kings can’t, Alanna.”

“Pfui.” Kel sat up. “That’s … nonsense, sire. You vary formality all the time, as you see need.” Mischief tugged. “You merely haven’t seen fit to extend it to the Lower City, but if you imagine you’re speaking to me when I’ve said something that shocks you but you have to admit makes sense, you’ll do fine.”

“Ouch. Piers, can you translate that as exactly possible, please, and add that that’s what I meant about your daughter’s advice being weighted with chagrin?”

Thayet elbowed her husband, “And what about my advice?”

More general dispute was foiled by the return of Akemi with another large bowl of _umeboshi_ , on which Kel gratefully seized, and of Tobe with an imperial scribe just behind.

“The guards say Mama Moriko is going strong, Ma, and makes wonderful _karaage_. Diamondflame says he doesn’t _need_ to eat, but on reflection believes he does find himself a bit peckish and thanks you for your clever thinking. And Kit had told him all about the peppers, which he agrees sound interesting.”

“Thank you, Tobe. Three welcome answers.” She looked at the scribe. “ _Daishoya-san_ , take a message, please. If His Imperial Majesty objects, he will let us know. Otherwise, exactly as I say. _His Imperial Majesty informs esteemed Mama Moriko that His honoured guests, having heard of her most excellent karaage, wish to sample it this lunchtime, and that He will accompany them. Apologising for short notice but with full confidence in her abilities, He adds that as the dragons Lord Diamondflame and Lady Skysong will be among them, she should prepare her largest vessel and a smaller one with karaage using wanizame chilli batter, hotter than any mortal could bear._ And the usual courtesies.”

Both Kel and the scribe looked at the Emperor, who waved a hand with a slightly bemused look.

“I don’t believe I have any objections, Keladry- _chan_ , peculiar as all this is, but why should Lord Diamondflame thank you for this clever thinking, or find it so?”

“Because, my Emperor, we are using him in a way I wouldn’t dream of were it not for the fact that favouring you in this might offset the favour Lord Sakuyo did the dragons in helping to protect Lady Skysong.”

It took him a moment, but then he got it all. “You think I am as the High One’s kit? And being … blessed to make this new appearance in the greatest company repays him? No … you and I both are both as his kits, and you spend a favour of your own, do you not?”

“If so, only a small one. And if Diamondflame likes the _wanizame_ as much as Kit did, even smaller. He’s also acknowledging that he remains as your guest, my Emperor, though he did not come as such.”

“And that is no small thing, however usual protocols of hosting cannot apply.” His eyes glinted. “Yet another debt is owed, Keladry- _chan_.”

Kel sighed. “Most respectfully, pfui. I am still absurdly hungry, and _karaage_ will hit the spot nicely. And I remember Mama Moriko with great fondness, for she had a generous hand with children’s portions and a sharp eye for customers who might seek to push ahead of the small, so giving her a boost to her pride sits well with me.”

“And to her custom, I imagine, Keladry- _chan_.” The Empress laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Send it, Daichi. This woman will need time to prepare, and persuading Keladry she is owed will be work for a lifetime.”

“Right as usual, Reiko. At the run.” The scribe went. “Should I announce the appearance, Keladry- _chan_?”

“There’s no need, my Emperor, and the idea is unbending a bit, not more protocol. Some guards to keep us enough space might be an idea, though. Tell me, my Empress, is reclusiveness to your taste?”

“Policy grown into habit. You think I too should come? And Taikyuu?”

“Your son, certainly. A ruler can always command one to bring food. But not all rulers can go for it themselves, if they so choose. For yourself I thought only that there is an opportunity to change policy, should you wish it.”

The Empress looked very thoughtful, and Prince Taikyuu was clearly struck by the idea of using power to do something for oneself. So was the Emperor, but when Jonathan heard the translation he laughed.

“Now that’s a saying to remember. Gods, Keladry, does New Hope have no protocol at all?”

“Very little that doesn’t suit me, sire, and none that stops me doing ordinary things for myself.”

“Lucky you. And I had a question, Daichi — what are you going to do with those statues?”

The Emperor scowled. “I have no idea. I quite see why Lord Rainbow said they should be displayed, but their present location is … _mezawari_.”

“An eyesore, sire. Or something obstructing a view.” Kel gave the Emperor a glance. “They’re rather meant to be that, though.”

“Yes, but in _Sorei_ … The geomancers are in tears. And they can’t stay on the grass, but putting them on pedestals does not seem acceptable.”

Kel’s eyes met Dom’s in sudden memory, and they both suppressed grins as he spoke.

“Tobe, you were the one who wanted Rogal petrified and stuck on the roadway next to the skulls.” Several Tortallans made strangled noises. “Any ideas?”

Tobe frowned. “They’re a lot uglier than even he would have been, Da. If they shouldn’t be moved or put up on pedestals, put them _down_. Dig a pit, with a simple path for access, and drop them out of view. Schools could take children down to see when they’re old enough to understand the lesson and not get nightmares.”

The Emperor clapped his hands softly. “Now that is a fine idea, Blessed Tobeis- _chan_. Should it have a name?”

“I don’t know, my Emperor. I’ve been thinking of them as … there is a Tortallan expression I can’t translate. ‘Stone fools’.” Tortallans barked laughter. “ _Sekkinukesaku_ , maybe, if that word exists.”

Yamanis laughed too and the Emperor gave Tobe a true smile. “It does now. Perfect.”

* * * * *

It was a _very_ peculiar procession, but Kel thought everyone was rather enjoying themselves, as she was herself. The giddy blend of Immortals’ Intoxication, political shock, and simple piety that possessed the crowds who filled streets and made way, staring in all directions and bowing or curtseying as bouncily as Kitten, might have set her teeth on edge — but Sakuyan worship meant Yamanis added a rueful laughter at their own reeling sensibilities that somehow resulted in high good humour. Everything was most irregular but the trees were blossoming, one had to laugh, and there was much to laugh at, and learn from. It was, after all, nearly the High One’s feastday, and he had already outdone himself. The imperials, moreover, recognised the Sakuyan mood at once, and for all her Mama was right about the Emperor’s limited experience of commoners, he was more at ease than Kel had thought he would be. He and the Princes were talking earnestly to Diamondflame, a conversation best ignored.

There was also the other effect of walking with Diamondflame, whose pace kept him exactly with them, and watching his paws land understanding gleamed. Spatial magic stretched his route, so he walked ten times as far at his own speed, a silent use of power at once practical, kind, and convenient for all, that revealed character. Akemi, Katsumi, and Akiko had been staring in facination too, as had the Empress, and Kel offered her explanation, fitting it to the Yamani tradition of a guest’s care for a host and receiving sharp glances.

“How do you know, Keladry- _oba_?”

“There’s a sort of stretchy shimmer where his paws land, Akiko- _chan_ , that suggests spatial magic. It’s logical. And as I told His Imperial Majesty, by coming with us today Lord Diamondflame acknowledges himself a guest, though he came to Yaman in justice. He would not do so and fail to observe a guest’s duties. Dragons are most exact in such matters, and you should always be so to them.”

“Ye-es. But you speak to him so easily, _oba_.”

“Why should I not, Katsumi? I would not presume on his goodwill, but I count him a friend, and though I and all of New Hope are in his debt beyond repayment, we have done what we can, as he knows.”

She received a frown. “In your book, _oba_ , he speaks of a debt all dragons owe you.”

“We’ve agreed to disagree about that, Katsumi.”

“But do you not call on it, _oba_? You seem to.”

Kel winced. “It’s complicated. We have a sort of standoff about it.”

The Empress laughed. “Daichi should hear this. Maybe that is what he and Lord Diamondflame speak of.”

Kel winced again, then remembered the atmosphere and made herself relax, brightening. “Well, dragons helped when gods ganged up on me, so maybe that’ll work the other way round too.”

In the silence she felt Sakuyo’s amusement, and found Patricine taking her arm, and drawing her a step away.

“You’re a wonder, Kel. The children will remember this all their lives, and be remembered for it. And my mother-in-law will gobble pleasure at their eating _karaage_ in the street, an idea that would usually make her faint in pure shock. She also received a lecture from Chiyoko- _sensei_ about your revelations to the Temple of Weapons that I _did_ enjoy.”

“Did you? Good. But it’s just being a bit hidebound, Patricine, as Tortall was until the Scanran War forced us to some new thinking.”

“Code and protocol, you mean?”

“If you like. They’re supposed to make things easier and more efficient, but grow on their own and need pruning sometimes. Honour, too, though half the time what people claim as honour is no such thing.”

“No.” Patricine gave her an odd look. “I don’t think I shall ever get over my surprise at how my little sister’s grown up, and I’m not sure I should. To see you lead the Wild Hunt … well, there aren’t words. Mama says you find people’s amazement baffling and irritating, so I won’t go on, but thank you for it all, and especially the children.”

Moved, Kel tightened her grip on Patricine’s arm for a moment. “What are aunts for? But yes, I do. Painful, too, when it’s worshipful distance in the eyes of a friend.” She paused, honesty twisting. “War pushed me into command very young, Patricine, and being sent back by the Black God is not so easy to live with, irony intended. And since then it’s been one thing after another. I’d hoped peace and motherhood meant an end to the worst of it, but here I am again.”

“Mmm. Akemi was telling me you wouldn’t admit the Emperor owed you anything.”

“Not if I can help it. Royal gifts are bad enough.”

Patricine laughed. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. _I’m very grateful. Here, have an absurd title and lifelong responsibility for a chunk of two countries and gods know how many people._ And the gods are the same — grace and ever so many hot needles, if you heard that one.”

“Your _haiku_? Of course I did. But you’re not a Yamani subject, so the Emperor can’t  do anything like that.”

“No, but he’ll think of something.”

“You were grateful for the _naginata_.”

“True. But that was wartime. I was less grateful for the wedding swords, as it meant I had to learn them — though that’s come in handy, so I suppose I shouldn’t grumble.”

“Handy.” Patricine laughed again. “I do begin to understand what Dom means when he says ‘only Kel’ in that tone. But thanks _are_ owed, whatever you say, and more people than the Emperor will be troubled if you refuse them all.”

Kel gave her sister a suspicious look. “Has Papa been bending your ear? Or Toshuro?”

“No.” Patricine grinned. “But Papa was bending Mama’s ear, concerned at your denial of debt. I think I understand what you’ve been saying, though, a bit anyway. It’s your other _haiku_ , to Prince Eitaro about blossoms and the storm, isn’t it? _Petals in water rejoice with the thunderstorm : another fine mess._ We’re one petal trying to thank another, when we should just be rejoicing together.”

Kel’s smile was radiant. “Yes, exactly. And they’ll understand that. I should have remembered it. Or … why not? Remind Prince Eitaro, and suggest His Imperial Majesty commission from Isao- _sensei_ , for whatever just price he devises, a single _haiku_ to express it, capping mine. His own _haiku_ was … I can’t say the only grace of the other night, but the sweetest.”

“Oh. That’s … perfect, Kel. And very clever. But I can’t take credit for thinking of that.”

“Then don’t. Oh glory, here we go.”

They had come to Rokujo-oji, half the width and even more crowded, and progress slowed as they had to narrow their file. Fortunately, Mama Moriko’s stall was only one block west, and the guards sent ahead had kept both space and an assortment of tables and stools. Kel was certain Diamondflame was accommodating himself, and suspected he might be helping out more generally, but her first task was the lady herself, pink with sweat and astonishment, yet in her own domain not to be faced down by anyone. Kel caught Yuki’s eye, then Cricket’s, and drifted forward to stand by the Emperor and Empress, receiving with Prince Taikyuu a welcome trembling with shocked dignity and deep surprise that such great ones should have heard of her simple cooking. The Emperor did well, Kel thought, despite his automatic high mode and imperial pronouns.

“Yet how could We not, esteemed Mama, when so many of Our guards relish it? And not only heard, for some among Our most honoured guests have tasted it. Blessed Protector- _sensei_?”

Kel offered a deep nod. “Do you not recall a young _gaijin_ girl and her Yamani friend, who sneaked out to find your _karaage_ , esteemed Mama? You once smacked a ladle across the hand of Masaro the carter for pushing them aside, so Lady Yukimi and I owe you all thanks and honour.”

“That was _you_ , Blessed? Oh my poor heart. You don’t … yes you do, your eyes haven’t changed.” The wide eyes became shrewd, searching painted faces. “Nor yours, my Lady.”

Kel gave Yuki a proper introduction, with Neal, then Shinko, who had learned enough shocking Tortallan informality to offer easy thanks.

“The third portions we bought really were for another, you see, and though I did not know it my honoured Papa also sent servants down for bowls of your _karaage_.”

Her parents brought in Jonathan and Thayet, then she introduced Diamondflame and Kitten — and if his mindvoice produced its usual welcome hush, her enthusiasm for fierce _wanazame_ peppers must have circulated widely and brought smiles. Best of all, with the discussion on food _karaage_ began to appear, every bit as good as Kel remembered, and the extra-hot version for dragons earned Kit’s whistling approval and a thoughtful look from Diamondflame.

_This is genuinely strong for anything grown in the mortal realms. A tasty dish._

“Do dragons garden?” Kel kept a straight face. “You could take some seeds or starts back with you. Would they then taste of their essence?”

 _Probably_. She could hear his amusement. _I dare say the Green Lady might like some, too, and manage them rather better than we would. Which reminds me, what was that bone-feast you promised Dabeyoun?_

“Oh, a Carthaki dish Numair told me about, baked marrow flavoured and served in bone-rings. He thought Dabeyoun might like it, but I hadn’t had occasion to see him until now. Why?”

_His liking for you is interesting. Weiryn and the hounds have favoured a mortal before now, but he treads a new path._

“The stormwings seem to want one of those too. And flying with the Hunt might be a real answer to their peacetime needs. I was kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner.”

_Ah, Protector. Nor did I, and I have been aware of the problem for very much longer, not that it was or is mine to solve. Rest assured, Wuodan and Frige will be thinking hard. And you have entirely glutted the Stone Tree Nation, so there is no haste._

“Maybe not, but this stuff all works so much better when there’s some momentum.” He was amused again, and she took advantage. “Tell me, is there a griffin equivalent of you or Haarist’aaniar’aan?”

He didn’t have eyebrows, but one would have quirked. _There is, but I do not think even you want to meet_ him _._

“Oh. Bother. What about mule gods?”

And the other. _Mule gods? No. The donkey gods look after them, I believe. What are you about now?_

The tale of Junior’s misdeeds with Longtail had grown in a telling or two, and she relayed it with gusto, bringing Dom and Tobe in with a complementary version of Kawit bringing miscreants to book. Everyone was listening, and as Tobe’s good Yamani made vividly clear Longtail’s repentance and Junior’s complete lack of it, she sighed dramatically.

“So you see, my lord, even your telling-off hasn’t stopped the little terror, and his parents just shrug when I can get them to pay any attention at all. They blame me for letting him get that way in the first place, but really, what they expected I’ve no idea. And _they_ let him get stolen to begin with, not that I dare point that out. But if the eldest griffin is too surly, and there are no mule gods, I’m out of ideas.”

A real dragon grin was quite something, she thought.

_Not my problem, Protector, though I grant Longtail should have known better. You could ask Sakuyo — he was fond enough to paint Junior three times._

“Huh. That’s a thought. Then again, who knows what mischief they’d persuade themselves into.”

So was a dragon snort. _That is a wiser thought. And Junior will improve with age._

“Over a century or three. Oh well. I told him if he did it again I’d put him in petrified manacles for a week, and he did look thoughtful for all of a minute. He still cost me several hours soothing mules and muleteers, though, which I won’t be getting back.”

There were smiles on many faces, and Kel was satisfied. The story reimposed scale, and like Kitten and Amiir’aan made immortals more familiar and less frightening ; even Protectors, upon whom gods heaped coals of power and praise. Everyone understood rambunctious young, and with the spectacle of the Hunt fresh, yet infused with Sakuyo’s laughter, aerial jesting struck a chord, and talk rose in a great buzz. As she set about a third bowl of _karaage_ a small hand tugged her sleeve.

“ _Petrified_ manacles, Keladry- _oba_?”

“Yes, Akiko- _chan_. Griffins can rust through iron ones in no time at all. In truth, I’m not sure it would work, because I suspect bindings fail on them for the same reason lies can’t be spoken in their presence, but they might hold Junior for a day or two. And I was really quite cross with him, little terror that he is, so I needed something he actually had to think about.” She winked at her niece. “Besides, I said it to him, face to beak, so he _knew_ it had to be true. I just didn’t say I wasn’t sure it would work.”

Kitten, listening with a sated look, trilled laughter. _He was still wondering about it a week later, Kel. He asked his parents too, but they would not tell him. If they know — no-one else seems to._

“Huh. Useful. You’ve kept very quiet about that, Kit.”

_You didn’t ask. And he was behaving himself._

“As much as he ever does, I suppose.”

She wondered about yet another bowl of _karaage_ , but settled happily for a dish of sweet _dorayaki_ pancakes, savouring the bean paste. Tobe took to them at once, but Dom was dubious, preferring _karoumetu_ cake. Thayet, bless her, was talking to a beaming Mama Moriko with Yuki’s help, but as people shifted, pursuing conversations, her Mama slid in beside her.

“That, sweeting, was masterful. Mistressful. And so is your _haiku_ commission. Your Papa is most relieved, even though our heads are still spinning.”

“Thank Patricine. She understood.”

“Better than we did, yes. But you do think on so many levels these days, sweeting. It muddles us up.”

“And you think it doesn’t muddle me, Mama?”

Ilane smiled, but her voice was serious. “It doesn’t seem to, Kel, from outside. And you’ve just danced through more levels than I can count. Do you know what your Papa said?”

Hearing the question, Kel did. “ _Doukegata_ , I imagine.” The stage jesters had set-pieces making themselves the butt of some tale, though usually as part of a larger plot. “I only realised in the middle, and I don’t know what I might be setting-up except His Nibs in Edo. He’s about, and doesn’t seem cross, but he’s still not talking.”

“Ah. So you did know, but don’t know. That does seem very Sakuyu.”

“Tell me, Mama. I think Jonathan gave him bad ideas.”

“Sweeting!” But Ilane’s eyes were alight. “You do have quite the view. And Tobe. I’m still laughing about his logic — can’t move, shouldn’t go up, must go down.” She shook her head. “Did he really want Rogal petrified? To spare you?”

“He did, Mama, bless him. It would never have done, but the black humour was very welcome at the time.”

“I imagine it was, and is.”

“Oh yes. _Sekkinukesaku_ was perfect. Huh.” Kel turned a sudden thought. “And maybe we do know something. Have you noticed how much art has been involved? It started with those paintings, then the book, and now statuary, with a _haiku_ popping up. Architecture to end with?”

“Interesting. So much grace.”

“Don’t forget hot needles, Mama. He won’t.”

* * * * *

After skirting Higashiyama, the Eastern Mountains bounding the bowl of Heian-kyó, the road to Edo ran east for miles beside Awaumi, the great lake, where rich grass supported the Emperor’s stud. All the horses were beautiful, and there were many of them, but though Tobe was disappointed to leave they couldn’t linger, and the road led away towards rounded hills, wiggled through a low pass, and dropped gently to the town of Nagoya, on Iye Bay. Thereafter the sea was rarely far away, for though this was the widest, wildest part of the island, rugged spurs of the snow-capped central mountains ran down almost to the coast. If long familiar from maps, after Nagoya it was all new to Kel, and with the weather set fair she found the rhythm of riding the chestnut gelding a simple pleasure.

The twins helped too. After a full day of gorging herself and a night’s proper sleep, some weight and, more importantly, her milk had returned, so there was the rhythm of nursing as well, restoring companionship with Yuki and Shinko. For morning feeds her Mama and nieces joined them, before sharing _naginata_ practice, showing their aunt how seriously they were taking slow dances, though not without wistful questions about when arms might ache less fiercely and dismay at her answers. For later feeds the Empress took to coming by, delighting in babies and offering soft reminiscences of nursing, with the joy of it, and her sorrow for the elder daughter who had, like Patricine’s eldest son, died in infancy.

There was a subtle invitation in it, that Kel found she didn’t mind. It was a desire to understand, not prurient curiosity, and the great balance nursing set against the many deaths she’d caused was helpful in opening up some ground the Empress seemed interested in. And she had no objection at all to saying how strange she found some Yamani attitudes, nor to speaking of the burden the Black God bore for all, and of his mercy. His face she kept to herself, though she acknowledged she had seen it, and had his indemnity against souls she sent to him. That conversation won genuine first-name terms.

“I believe he granted me that, Reiko, because he knew what the siege would demand. Lord Shoji was not wrong that first night, nor did I lie in answering him. My hands slew thousands, and I never forget it. But I am enabled to bear it.” She eased the babies in her killing arms. “I could have executed the _Sekkinukesaku_ too, if I’d had to, vomiting between each one and carrying on all the same. But Rainbow read my mind last Beltane because I’d used dragonfire — just as you saw him read Kit’s — so he knew I’ve had more than enough of killing, and took on the burden, of his and Haarist’aaniar’aan’s grace. It was kind of them.”

The elder basilisk was travelling with them, mostly in silence during the day, save to the other basilisks in their own tongue, but more talkatively at night when Diamondflame joined them after a day circling lazily with stormwings, or just enjoying flight over mountains, so far as Kel could tell.

“Kind? You say such strange things, Keladry, and so calmly.”

“What’s strange? It _was_ kind of them. I imagine it was Rainbow’s doing, or Diamondflame’s. Haarist’aaniar’aan owed me no consideration.”

Yuki gave her a look. “No, Keladry- _chan_? You protect many basilisks, and it is not for nothing they have come to New Hope. In coming here their elder acknowledged it, surely?”

“I don’t know, Yuki. The dragons asked him for me, and he acknowledged them, as elder kin. I wouldn’t presume on that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You never do. But the fact remains that you asked and he came, however incorrigible you are.”

“ _Incorrigible?_ Yuki — ”

“But it is so, Keladry- _chan_.” Shinko rarely interrupted anyone. “You are as bad at receiving gratitude as remorseless in earning it. And if my poor aunt and uncle are as delighted as they are rebuked by the idea of the commissioned _haiku_ , and see its great elegance, they are still left feeling they take much and give little. A feeling you do not like at all.”

A mildly shocked Kel tried to take the scolding to heart. She knew there was a mulishness in her about it, and an inconsistency, in that she didn’t mind her own liegers’ cheerful gratitude ; but their gifts, when they gave them, were small, practical things they thought she could use, and occasioned her no worse a headache than saying thank you to people she liked anyway. Rulers were different, and gave by way of command, for their own satisfaction more than the recipients’. But she knew her thinking was uncomfortably like the way Jonathan was wary of gods, not because he had reason to suspect them but simply because they were more potent than he, and it rubbed him wrong. Digesting it, she made a decision, and next day ranged alongside the king as he chatted with her Papa, swallowing some lingering resentment, and asked advice. He heard her out in silence, and waited several moments before replying.

“Such fearsome honesty. I wonder what that cost you to say, Keladry, and admire you the more for it. And I share your appreciation for the practical, if not always so radically, so I’ll be frank too. What we have in common is above all _will_. I have to have it to do what I do, Daichi too, and you must have it in spades. And having to subdue it to some greater end is … annoying. Very. I don’t really understand the poem thing, but I do know Daichi feels thwarted in generosity, and I’d be grateful if you’d let him give you something mutually acceptable.” He held up a hand. “I agree land isn’t workable, though something strictly honorary could get round that. Money’s vulgar, but I dare say New Hope can use all it can get. Or some title you have to use once a year — I’ll approve almost anything by this stage.”

Kel’s muttered ‘Hag’s Bones’ was too loud, and Jonathan laughed.

“But you’re feeding bones to the Hag, Keladry, as best I understand, in proper gratitude.”

“Gah!” She fumed for a minute, before giving up. There came a point where you had to laugh. “Papa?”

He was silent for a long while. “I am torn, my dear. His Majesty is not wrong in any particular, but I understand what price you have paid for greatness, while his came to him by birth. So I also have a keener sense of what galls you.” Jonathan winced but they ignored him. “I have thought hard about your words at Midwinter, and I was wrong. I need only your mother as an anchor, but you face stronger winds, and need both of us and Anders as well as Domitan and Tobeis. It will be a dance for us all, though not an ill one.” He took a breath. “But there is the Emperor’s need to consider, and I have two suggestions. Let him recognise Protector of the Small as a Yamani title, with some nominal honorarium?”

She thought Jonathan might be holding his breath, but nodded soon enough. “I can live with that, Papa, if it _is_ nominal. Between Yuki’s pickles and the probable pilgrims, I’m already taxing Yaman as much as is wise.”

“Mmm. A _haiku_ a year, perhaps. But your bulk purchases _for_ the pilgrims are an offset, my dear, and the growing trade will benefit all. So my second suggestion is that you let the Emperor provide a guard for the Pilgrims’ Way between Mindelan and New Hope. I don’t think the risk is great, but pilgrims attract thieves, and the wayhouses you sensibly propose should have a guard neither of us wants to pay for if we can pass the cost up.”

Kel couldn’t help grinning. “True, if horribly sneaky, Papa. I’d been wondering about some fighting ogres Kuriaju tells me will probably be making enquiries, or perhaps spidrens, or even some of the Scanrans Ragnar says he’ll be wishing on me, depending, but imperial samurai would be worth their feed. And we’ve seen they can work with immortals.”

“So we have. You’ll agree?”

Kel thought about it. “One _haiku_ a year is more than I want, but yes, if I must. And there’s something else, actually, that I’ve been meaning to ask about — an engineer who knows about those gated channels on the Yodo, to come and tell us what is or isn’t possible on the Vassa. If we could open it for river barges all the way from Frasrlund to ha Minchi land …” Her Papa nodded thoughtfully, and she gave Jonathan a sidelong glance. “Besides, that Fourth Company of the King’s Own you’ve been muttering about, sire, could have worse training than guarding pilgrims for a year or two.”

He looked away for a minute, before giving her a half-smile. “I’ll doubtless regret not taking advantage and granting the favour, but I’d already thought of it, Keladry. Vanget and Raoul both want them based north, and they’d need to know New Hope anyway. Your Pilgrims’ Way is an obvious answer, and working alongside samurai and immortals a bonus.”

That made sense, and she nodded. “Good. Thank you. Two things, then, sire. Please, make the recruits learn Yamani in basic training, as a standing royal order. It’ll save hours of nonsense. And whoever comes to New Hope, we should recruit a spidren instructor or two for the pages and the Own and Army.”

“Yes and yes. There will be much howling, but I agree about the royal order, and Alanna was _very_ clear we had to reassess fighting with and against spidrens.” He gave her a look. “I can’t say it’s my favourite among your many ideas, Keladry, and how you can stand their resemblance to killing devices I have no idea, but it works. I was annoyed not to have seen your sparring with Kravimal when everyone seemed to be talking about it, but I saw him fight at Kiyomizu-dera well enough, and gods, he was impressive.”

“Wasn’t he? I’m sorry you missed the sparring, but Thayet said she did try to wake you.”

He flapped a hand ruefully. “I know. I’m not good in the mornings.”

“Ebony or Button can show you tonight, if you want.”

“So they can. But I saw you fight too, Keladry, when the darkings showed what Skysong and Amiir’aan did. The whole thing was astonishing, but you were … remarkable.”

“Was I? I’d have been killed if it wasn’t for Kitten, and I _knew_ that move wouldn’t work. On foot you can hold off three, but you can’t kill more than two without taking a strike, unless they’re idiots.”

“You were still as fast as anyone I’ve ever seen, and Daichi said the same. I don’t mean to saddle you with the logistics of the new company, except in so far as it comes under your army command, but I do want your hand in their weapons’ training.”

Kel shrugged. “Training’s a constant. They can join in when they’re around. But you don’t need me or any single person, sire. What you need is a College of Weapons. The need to train pages and recruits makes for routine, and limited basics — but why did the Army forget slings, say? They used to be regular Thanic formations. Or think of Wyldon harrumphing about my glaive, so I could only practice in my own time. Keeping up with everything, and thinking about new combinations and tactics, needs full-time people. The Temple of Weapons offers a model, but the College should be attached to the Palace, independent of Army Council and Training Master.”

“Huh. Cost and space?”

“Some, sire, but it needn’t be big, just dedicated, with enough authority to make Council and Master listen. And I bet some veterans you already pay pensions to would fit the bill.”

“It’s a good thought, my dear. And an offer of board and lodging would bring _shang_ to see and aid such a College, sire. Carthaki travelling warriors also.”

“So I’d hope. And I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Piers. I do. A lot, in fact. But we’re still out of Palace space.”

“Commission Master Geraint and the Guild, sire.” Kel grinned. “We’ll build you something that’ll work, at cost.”

“Done.” Jonathan paused. “Though perhaps I’d better wait until I see this temple he’s designed. The descriptions are, um, not altogether clear. Have you seen any plans?”

“Not one, sire. Architecture is Geraint’s business, not mine.” Kel thought back. “I do know that before they all rushed off to Edo, he was burbling about curved walls — not just circles, but spheres. It sounded interesting, like an arch but sideways as well, somehow, but when I said so he went all mathematical on me. Trigonometry I understand, but not whatever he was using. The ogres were involved, and you’ve seen what they can do fitting dry stone, never mind ashlar. Oh, and they were playing with colour, too. Basilisks can’t change the colour of a stone unless they petrify it, but they can shade it a bit with some version of the rock-spell. Fanche’s and Saefas’s house has much more elaborate banding and patterning than Dom’s and mine. And if they’re petrifying they can do whatever they want with colour.”

“Huh.” A king shook his head, not in denial. “The education never stops. Fascinating. And oddly enough, a sideways arch with strange patterns would fit with what I’ve heard. After a fashion. But go tell Daichi the good news, would you, Piers? Then we’ll join him at lunch.”

They did, and the Emperor, guardedly pleased and happy to despatch and sponsor both pilgrim-guards and several engineers, sensibly wanted to know what Kel herself thought of her strange title. It was a while since she’d had to tell _that_ story, and found her perspective changed. The elemental had been the first quasi-divine being she’d encountered, and its amusement at her expense and occasional forays into sarcasm had set a tone. But her absurd Protectorship had become real, not least because immortals had chosen to use the title, as a convenience but latterly with affection as well as something that tasted of irony. And Lord Weiryn had once said the elemental named her well. She still found the title pretentious, and too much like a boast, but she couldn’t deny it described what she did, and had done again here in Yaman.

“The thing is, my Emperor, it’s what everyone ought to do, always. The small, in whatever sense, should never be victims on that account alone. It’s in most warrior codes, one way or another, and making it my title can make it seem as if it’s my duty alone, not a basic one applying to all. I don’t mind being a reminder of that duty, though, and that fits well enough with the warning the dragons are giving, on their own behalf and for all immortals in these realms.”

“True. And I appreciate your scruples better now, Keladry- _chan_. Your most fierce refusal to presume matches the great authority granted you by immortals and High Ones, or they would not choose you to bear it. How then can I be less circumspect? More practically, as a title given by no mortal ruler, absolute in itself, it lies wholly outside all mortal ranks, meaning all might properly ignore, or properly defer. Which is, frankly, a very useful consideration just now.”

There was a silence, though Yamani eyes were bright.

“Lord Diamondflame also assures me you are just as singular as you seem, such as you occurring but rarely, and always when the Timeway turns and the world with it. He is sure we enter an age of greater peace, with more harmony between all, and deems prevention of war here an echo of your Scanran peace. So I have a counter-proposal, to which Jonathan agrees. I will recognise you as Protector, a peer of all, most Blessed and free of Yaman, and Yaman will recognise the Guild, on the same terms as Tortall, with you as Guildmaster for life. What Taikyuu, Roald, Faren, and your successors do when it’s their turn can await the event. Who knows how this peace will fare? Will you consent?”

“To the title, because I must, and on the Guild’s behalf gladly, my Emperor. But that means you must have a branch to set about the Guild’s work. You have the spidrens, and gods know you have fishing, but for petrified webbing you need a resident basilisk or three. And for architecture. Ogres too. Ask Haarist’aaniar’aan while you can, and give me an offer to make to any more immortals who turn up at New Hope? They’re not ambitious in mortal ways, but they won’t be exploited either. Ozorne’s lesson cut deep.”

“So I have seen, Keladry- _chan_ , and thank you. All that is very useful, and most hopeful. I would have asked had you not offered.” His eyes were shrewd. “And I see also how such a Guild branch will become a new link between the Daidairi, as signatory to its recognition, and working people like fishermen, through merchants but bypassing nobles — unless, of course, they choose to become involved and abide by its most interesting rules about distribution of profit.”

“It could do, yes. Will you pursue that path?”

“I believe I must, Keladry- _chan_ , though not all concur. With the Fujiwara block gone we are imbalanced, and whatever else I do, his lands will be broken up. If my counterweight with the ministries is not to be the army, it must be the merchants and artisans.”

Kel hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but saw another opportunity.

“Do you know how the Protectors’ Maids came about?”

She spent most of the afternoon riding with the imperials and explaining why Empress’s Maids would be a throroughly good thing for everyone, before dropping back to fluster Patricine with a request to consider becoming the local Guild Deputy.

“Having been to New Hope and close to the delegation, you have more experience of immortals than almost anyone here except the guards, and being kin reassures me as well as working politically. The Emperor agreed at once, if you’re willing. But it’s not an obligation, Patricine, only an offer. I will say, though, I think you’d enjoy it, and the children will start being away more quite soon.”

“Yes, they will. Katsumi will have to live in at the Academy for two years. I’m not sure what the girls want, because they aren’t either, but Akemi is clear she’s in no rush to get married, and that suits me fine.”

“She can come to New Hope anytime, you know. You’ll need to delegate and she can learn Guild ropes, if you’d like. And let me tell you about the new Empress’s Maids.”

She’d have liked that discussion to carry on once they’d stopped for the night at an imperial wayhouse by a small fishing village, Suzuoka, the last stop before Edo, but after supper found herself and Dom politely cornered by Isao- _sensei_ , with Neil in tow, eyes alight.

“You have set me a most impossible task, Blessed, and I must understand all I can. Blessed Prince Eitaro has been eloquent, and Blessed Nealan- _sama_ , but I need your own account, of your kindness.”

To Kel’s considerable discomfiture and the amusement of many who gathered, her three _haiku_ were all thoroughly considered. The one to the Emperor, Isao thought well-made and most proper, entirely commendable but not commanding. But the two addressed to Lord Sakuyo were another matter, and had the old man at once exalted and pensive in a way that made her feel slightly giddy. She was also blushing.

“They are inspired, Blessed, but just now they are not inspiring me, only making me wonder how I can even hope to succeed in my task. But tell me what it was Lady noh Akaneru understood in quoting the last. She said it was the absurdity of petals thanking one another for a bath when the same storm has dislodged them all, and that I can grasp. But how it relates to those astonishing paintings Prince Eitaro showed me I have no idea at all.”

Kel blinked. “He has them with him?”

Eitaro was listening, and nodded. “I do, Blessed Keladry- _chan_. We thought they might be needed at the dedication.”

“I doubt it, my Prince.” She wondered why she did. “There’ll be new art, I think, and probably enough _haiku_ to drown in. But that’s beside the point. If they’re being carried, they’re still small?”

“Indeed.”

“But you know the ones at New Hope grew, _sensei_?”

“I do, Blessed, hard as it is to imagine.”

“You don’t have to, _sensei_. Ebony?”

Button joined him on the wall, and from Var’istaan’s shoulder Shale, and they made themselves big enough to convey the image Kel needed, with herself truly beside Dom, as she was now, and the blazing images of her towering above them both on the wall at New Hope. Lord Sakuyo’s exquisitely calligraphed note was legible in her hand, with every mortal’s eyes bugging out as her eyes had met Dom’s and they had been lost to helpless laughter in which the High One had joined. The darkings made no sound but silver spread from his note to tinge their image as he did, and swirled as she crossed to Prince Eitaro to raise him from his knees and speak the _haiku_. The image froze, showing all three paintings with the mortals before them.

“Look at all of me, large and small, and see which laughed. Talk about a jest!”

But the old man had whipped a writing-set and paper from his sleeve, and after centring himself with a deep breath dipped his brush and set out some austerely beautiful _kanji_. Struck as always by the grace of Yamani calligraphy it wasn’t until Kel tipped her head to read them that she realised what she had done.

_Look at all of me,_

_large and small, and see which laughed._

_Talk about a jest!_

“A spontaneous _haiku_ , Blessed.” The old man sounded reverent, and Kel bit back something altogether rude as she recognised another of Lord Sakuyo’s little jokes. “You have a vivid way with a final line.”

“Ngh. Thank you, _sensei_ , but that’s not quite the point.”

Dom laid a hand on her arm, his eyes as sympathetic as amused. “Let me try, love.”

He’d had to deal with Neal in poetic mode often enough, so Kel sat back, letting exasperation dissolve into appreciation of absurdity.

“You must realise, Isao- _sensei_ , that it was different for me, but I did understand our laugh, and the _haiku_ when Kel translated it. She told me once she has identities like rings — the woman in her mirror, wife and mother, commander, countess, Protector, and beyond them all things others think of her, true or false. Each is bigger than the last, as all see, yet none is more than one woman I can hold in my arms, as all but she tend to forget. Lord Sakuyo painted the Protector, and even with Kel newly wed to an old sergeant in front of them, they tried speaking to the image, not the woman.”

“Old sergeant my foot, but yes, that’s it, love. People behaving as if the pictures were all truth even when I’m right there, real-size. And you understood, my Prince, that you can’t bow if you’re laughing properly.”

“I did, Blessed, most wonderfully. You laughed because you were alive to do so, and deeply in love, you said, and for all the High One’s great art the paintings are neither. I told you, Isao- _sensei_ , not to forget your image of Blessed Keladry- _chan_ calling wonders from the air, but to set it beside the woman you would make blush if you praised her _haiku_ , and think about the gap between them.”

“And,” Dom added with an assumed earnestness that told her he was suppressing laughter, “think about how you’d feel if a dragon, two gods, and two hounds of the Hunt turned up at your wedding, and everyone goggled at _you_. Too rude, as you say here, so now you need to apologise to them for something that isn’t your fault, so you’re cross as well. But their silliness isn’t worth it, and life’s too short, so you laugh instead and that’s both right and true.” Dom paused, then shrugged, his voice becoming genuinely earnest. “You praise the legend. I love the woman. Kel knows the truth.”

She was still pondering that with mixed emotions when Tobe got his old-man look. “Ma sees hearts, Isao- _sensei_ , including her own, so she wants truth, always. The legend’s there to be used, like that dragon against the Scanrans, but it _depends_ on being an illusion. So she mostly finds trying to flatter her with its reflection silly as well as annoying.”

Between embarrassment, pride, and rue, balance came, and with it laughter as rich as it was serene.

“Perfect, Tobe. Thank you. And yes, Kitten’s rubbed off on me. I don’t know if this will help, _sensei_ , but honestly, think about the Graveyard Hag. You saw her. Do you think wide-eyed worship will get you anywhere with _her_? Gods don’t like cheek, but they don’t want a prostrate chorus either. If I’ve learned anything from their messing me about so much, it’s to stand tall and answer straight even when they’re at their most godly. Nothing else will do. And what do people amazed by my talking back to them as if they were perfectly sensible beings — and that’s moot, mind you — decide they ought to do but include me in their prostrations? And then they splutter astonishment at every suggestion they might just have missed the point! The gods laugh, _sensei_ , because otherwise they’d scream, and I’ve had days that way, too many of them to count.” She paused, counting, and laughed again. “But laughing is best, and your verse need not praise mine. Gods prefer a joke.”

With a look of resignation the old man reached once more for his brush and Kel excused herself to nurse and enjoy with Yuki the many strange looks that had passed across Neal’s face.

 


	8. Temple

**Seven : Temple**

_Edo, 1  April_

They had arrived in Edo after dusk, and against the darkness of the sea a road-weary Kel had only been vaguely aware of a looming silhouette beside the triple rooves of two older pagoda temples, preferring the mingled scents of brine and blossom on the breeze, and her bed as soon as feeding the twins allowed. But when she and the others sought a practice court at dawn she found her gaze dramatically arrested.

The dome of the new temple was enormous, swelling above the nearby pagodas in a geometrical riot. She could see many hexagons, and a swirl of shades and colours, but nothing seemed to harmonise with anything else — except it must, somehow, for there it was, glowing in the dawnlight against a glittering sea, and Geraint knew what he was about. The structure came first, as she realised every hexagon acted like a voussoir in an arch, their own weights keeping one another in place, but it was only as the light strengthened and shadows shifted that the overlying pattern suddenly resolved into its duality.

“Oh, that’s _wonderful_.”

Her Mama and others were still squinting. “It’s certainly an amazing shape. And huge.”

“It’s both, but I meant the _kanji_ and the portrait. Don’t you see? It’s _jest_ and _tranquility_ , but they form a picture of Lord Sakuyo. He’s facing us, straight on, and when we enter we’ll be walking right under his chin.” One by one they saw it, exclaiming, and Kel’s mind clicked. “It must be Lord Sakuyo’s own design, his answer to my fire-bow, _ctheorth_ and _yr_ , but neither illusory nor transient.”

Yuki shaded her eyes. “Is it me, Keladry- _chan_ , or is the High One laughing?”

“Fit to burst, I should think, Yuki. The Hag said he was being quite insufferable about his dedication. Today is going to be painful fun, as if we didn’t know it. What do you suppose he’s had done _inside_ that thing?”

“I think I do not care to guess. And we will find out soon enough. Come, I need to dance.”

Kel did too, and chagrined her nieces by doing the hardest pattern dance very slowly, revelling in the burn of muscle and sinew as she held control for just as long as needed. Hiyako grinned at her and spoke confidentially to both girls.

“She’ll pay for showing off like that, you know. But do you see also what fuels such strength? Sight of Lord Sakuyo on his new temple has moved her, and emotion does not harm her discipline, but feeds it. Learn _that_ , and you can do many, many things.”

Kel couldn’t deny it, but still. “True enough, _sensei_ , but honest pain answers my need, also.”

She should have known her Mama would pounce on that.

“Why so, sweeting?” Ilane frowned, working it out. “Your firebow saved lives.”

Kel shrugged. “The illusory one did, Mama. The second was born of the dragonfire on the roadway, though I don’t know who else saw it that way, and it took lives by the thousand. Please don’t fret. I don’t, any more. But pushing through muscle pain is a balance as well as a duty. And I have more than one cause of grace this morning.” She had left Dom with a glazed look in his eyes, and as she squatted to ease the burn in her legs saw her Mama stifle a snort. Her head was level with Akiko’s. “Neal- _sama_ tells me off for ignoring pain, and I have made mistakes doing so. He says pain is a warning to heed, and so it can be. But unless a muscle is torn, this sort of pain is only the mark of pushing yourself, as all should. You have been taught the lake and the net?”

Akemi nodded, but Akiko sighed. “Our tutors have tried, but despair of me, Keladry- _oba_. Pain still hurts, however I let it pass through me.”

“Yes it does, Akiko- _chan_. Always. It just doesn’t matter enough to stop you acting however you must.” Which cut two ways, Kel thought, for Noriko noh Fujiwara had not let what must have been crippling pain prevent her from acting as she thought she must ; but that was for another lesson. “And a good sweat makes a hot bath a fine reward.”

She wasn’t sure either girl was convinced, but as a god’s feast-day and dedication demanded cleanliness they had the chance to judge for themselves. Her many scars drew the usual shocked looks, but Dom had long since kissed most of those embarrassments away.

“They’re a risk in training, which is why you _never_ mess with weapons, and a certainty in war. Junior didn’t help — the thin ones on my hands and arms are from feeding him, though the one on my foot was my own fault. But scars also mean you lived through whatever it was, and I’ve been very lucky.” She touched Stenmun’s spiderwelt, looking solemn. “This means I have to be careful about necklines, but as I have next to no cleavage anyway it’s a handy excuse.”

“Sweeting!” They were all so pink with heat Ilane couldn’t go pinker, and after glaring at her daughter addressed her grandchildren. “Your blessed _obasensei_ makes light of things I think she shouldn’t, girls, but it seems to help her cope with a great deal more than I could bear.”

“Oh pfui, Mama. It was only a problem while I thought I was ugly, but Dom’s fixed that. Now it’s just practicalities, because if I wore gowns like Adie’s and Orie’s it isn’t my breasts people would stare at. That the twins do is one of their delights.”

“Sweeting!”

The lively discussion, as frank as matrons could be and causing more people than her nieces to show fascinated blushes, saw them to a breakfast where approaching men caught some snatch of the continuing conversation and promptly peeled away, blank faced, to their own tables — even the monarchs, though not Dom and Tobe.

“Have you seen that astonishing thing Geraint’s built, love?”

“Oh yes. That’s what started this conversation.”

“It did?” Dom quirked an eyebrow. “Remind me not to ask you how. I saw the portrait, and Tobe saw the _kanji_ as well, but couldn’t read them.”

“ _Jest_ and _tranquility_.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.”

“Allowing for the hot needles.”

“Always, love.” Her laughter soared, and Dom grinned. “Occupational hazard. Or reward. Shame we can’t tell which, even when it’s happening. What’s the schedule?”

“The dedication’s at noon. Morning’s for getting togged-up” — her face fell — “which means face-paint for me. Even Thayet’s under orders. But I’m told Geraint’s coming up to say hello and give everyone a briefing on his marvel, which I really want to hear. After … well, who knows?”

“Playing it by ear, then?”

“Of necessity, love. Can you and Tobe make sure you have our dedication gifts?”

“Already set out and waiting.”

Knowing gods personally made giving them things much harder, Kel had found, besides the consideration that it was priests rather than the High Ones themselves who got any material benefit. But that might not be true today, and besides a pickle-case even more magnificent than the one she’d given the Emperor, but using woods native to New Hope, she had had a stroke of good fortune in the form of a Gallan woodcarver who’d come to see Drachifethe and the portraits, and left an exquisite carving of a hound at the shrine of Lord Weiryn. Seeing it, Tobe had summoned her, and the Gallan had admitted seeing the hound in the woods while he was travelling and being moved to carve it. The darkings would never show the Divine Realms, but Lord Sakuyo had shown himself at New Hope, which was public enough, and Ebony had been willing to show his memory of the smiling old man for whose kiss Kel had had to stoop. The result was a carving a foot high in which the god’s smile was numinous, his hands veined and light with age, and the fall of his robe as perfect as anything she’d ever seen.

“Excellent. Thank you. What will you be doing while I get painted?”

“Dressing’s going to take me almost as long as you, I should think.” Dom had a new formal Yamani robe, which he said he felt silly wearing though Kel thought he looked very good in it. “Your father’s promised to help me with the sash. What Tobe’s up to I have no idea.”

“Checking on the horses. And Kit’s fussing about her ribbon.” Tobe was very pleased with his own new formal robe, and had a wide grin. “Amiir’aan’s got himself one, too, from some stall in Heian-Kyó. St’aara rolled her eyes at me and said he was young, but I think Var’istaan secretly thinks it looks good and would like one himself, but daren’t say.”

“Really? We could get him an over-robe for Midwinter.”

The amusement almost carried Kel through the tedium of being fussed over by maids and letting her face be painted. The nerves Shinko and Yuki would have felt at any great Yamani event were stretched by what they thought of as her status with Lord Sakuyo, and the outcome was a determination that everyone be perfect. Empress Reiko shared it, so there was no stopping them, but it was boring. When she’d seen her try them on, Kel had thought Thayet actually looked very good in kimonos, and Lalasa had done her usual wonderful job with cut, line, and embroidered personal arms, combining jian Wilima inheritance and Conté royalty. Kimonos suited Alanna less well, though Lalasa had discovered an older, more simply cut style that went with her shorter, stockier build. But the Lioness, like Kel and Thayet, found face-paint a nuisance and a discrimination, and they scandalised poor Shinko and Yuki by discussing how various men would look in rice-powder white with accentuated eyes and lips, doubting it would enhance masculine dignity. Patricine helped by getting a fit of giggles, and her Mama had to call them to order, swallowing laughter of her own.

“You see, my Empress, how incorrigible my daughters are. My Queen, alas, and the Lioness must answer for themselves.”

Kel translated for Alanna and Thayet, grinning, and Alanna snorted.

“I don’t mind the clothes, and a bit of paint’s nice enough, but all white wasn’t meant for red hair or purple eyes. I look like a stage clown.”

“Your eyes look good, actually, Alanna, but it wastes skin tone entirely, when Shinko and Yuki both have such lovely skin.” Thayet didn’t mention her own. “And I can’t even cry about it.”

The Empress laughed as Shinko blushed and Ilane translated. “Alas, I fear we are terrible hosts to force you to this, but even these most progressive Edo _kamunushi_ would be too shocked if a woman came to a major dedication unpainted.” She gave Kel a sidelong look. “I understand Lord Hidetaki has seen fit to complain that you lacked proper respect for the High One, in make-up as well as manners.”

“Good luck to him. It wasn’t me who greeted Lord Sakuyo with a thunder of sneezes.”

“No.” Reiko couldn’t smile, because she was being painted herself, but her eyes were warm. “That occurred to many, Keladry- _chan_.”

“So I should hope.” She frowned. “Lord Hidetaki isn’t _here_ , is he?”

“But of course. As First _Kamunushi_ of Yaman, he could not be absent.”

“So he’s going to be speaking?”

“He must.”

“Well, I hope he’s done better with his conscience than his complaint suggests, or he’ll find himself sneezing his head right off, or worse.” Kel started to shake her head and was prevented by a determined maid with a brush. “He doesn’t even have a political excuse left, not that he should have needed one in the first place.”

“That he does understand, I believe, but he was the late Lord Fujiwara’s man, and does not approve of the changed circumstances.”

Kel stared. “Was he still keeping to his rooms when …?”

“He was, Keladry- _chan_ , and though he has seen the _Sekkinukesaku_ , he seems not to have experienced the, ah, clearer understanding that came to others that night. Apparently he finds it improper that you should have called on a, forgive me, _gaijin_ god rather than Lord Sakuyo.”

“Huh. Can gods be _gaijin_? Actually I have some sympathy with the thought, but Lord Sakuyo couldn’t help with what was needed, and those I turned to could.” The truth of it resonated so strongly and suddenly that Kel half-wondered if she’d heard a chime. Was that why …

“What is it, sweeting?”

“Just a thought, Mama.” The humour hit her too, and even the disapproving maid couldn’t stop her laughing. “You know I was waiting on Lord Sakuyo’s jest? But I begin to wonder if he was waiting on mine.”

The peace spread within her, and she knew she was right, though why he had wanted it that way eluded her.

“Sweeting? What jest?”

“All of it, Mama — dragons and the Hunt and me stuck up on Lord Arawn. It was justice for his poor murdered _kamunushi_ too, as well as Kit and Amiir’aan, though I still don’t see why he couldn’t have taken care of that himself if he was offended. Oh well. As Kit insists, there’s no accounting for gods. And I suppose he got the statuary out of it, for his artistic theme, as well as drumming up interest in this dedication.”

It was perhaps fortunate that with faces all painted they had to start dressing, but she had to deal once again with reaction to her scars, this time from the Empress — though not the one she was used to. With a strange look in her eyes Reiko reached a slim hand to touch the welt above her breast.

“A spiked axehead. My uncle had a very similar scar, and always counted himself lucky to have survived the wound.”

“I was too, Reiko. It was Stenmun Kinslayer’s axe. But Neal patched me up well enough, and his father dealt with the bone injury.”

“Ah. I remember the tale. You have already fought so often and hard, Keladry- _chan_ , and we found you yet more opponents. I am so sorry.”

Kel shrugged uncomfortably. “I chose to train as a warrior, and I don’t regret it. Nor have you added any scars.”

“Your leg will not scar?”

Kel was still self-conscious about her solid ankles, but twisted her leg to show the injury, or rather, where it had been. “Not in the least. I didn’t do anything consciously, but the staff’s power seems to have healed it completely. Something did, at any rate.”

“Truly your life is strange and wonderful, Keladry- _chan_.”

The conversation lapsed in the need to settle under-kimonos and over-kimonos, and tie each _obi_ correctly. Reiko’s kimonos were magnificent, though not, Kel thought, any more so than Lalasa’s work adorning Thayet, Shinko, Yuki, Alanna, her Mama, and herself, and the murmuring approval of maids as well as the Empress’s sharp eye confirmed her judgement. They made a very proper and impressive gaggle of Yamani ladies, saving Alanna’s hair, though her deep blue over-kimono more than cancelled the clown effect she had feared, and transformed her prowling walk into an elegant glide Kel admired.

“Good. They cost enough, for something I’ll never wear again.”

“Oh I don’t know, Alanna. You could cut a wonderful figure at the Queen’s Ball.”

Thayet agreed, but persuading Alanna would have to wait, for a maid came to tell them Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ and his immortals had arrived, and His Imperial Majesty requested their presence. Kel hadn’t had a chance to explore the imperial residence, and looked about with interest as they were led through several smaller reception rooms to an austere but beautiful audience room. It had only one throne, but that wasn’t a problem, for the Emperor and everyone else — including Haarist’aaniar’aan and all the Guild delegation’s immortals — were clustered round a knot of familiar faces and an array of models set on a table. The cluster broke open as the Empress was announced, and Kel saw both Dom and Tobe looking splendid, with Jonathan in a fine robe of his own, but duty called. She was delighted to see Geraint (who was speaking fluent Yamani, though he hadn’t had a word of it when he’d left), as well as Manian’aan and Fariaju, who had led the basilisk and ogre builders, but was surprised when Geraint made his way round the table to greet her very formally as Guildmaster and take her hands, muttering swift Tortallan.

“Lady Kel, _good_ to see you. And I dunno what you’ve been up to, but His Majesty ordered me to greet you properly the second I saw you.”

“And good to see you too, Geraint. Politics. Don’t worry about it.” She raised her voice in Yamani. “Thank you, Blessed Geraint- _sensei_. All has been well with the Guildmembers working here?”

“It has, Blessed Guildmaster. And I believe Manian’aan and Fariaju will agree that the needs of their kinds have been generously met.”

They did, though Kel could see speculation in their eyes as she thanked them fulsomely for their work, and the Emperor for his care.

“But please, Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ , do not let me delay further your explanation of the wonder you have wrought.”

The hexagons worked as she’d half-understood, each bound by the whole on an underlying skeleton tracery of petrified timber that had served as a form. Geraint had disassembled pieces as well as a complete model, and clever fingers stacked small hexagons in place to demonstrate what he was saying, real enthusiasm in his voice despite the months of labour.

“It’s a marvellous system, Your Imperial Majesty, and on a smaller scale could be managed by mortals alone, though it would take longer. There are weight limits, of course, but as long as each edge is properly jointed and bonded the whole dome binds itself together, just as an arch does. You could roof a large area with a single dome. And I believe, though I haven’t been able to do the calculations properly yet, that you could use glass and iron instead of thinly sliced and petrified wood.” His eyes found hers. “I was thinking about a greenhouse big enough to take a whole fruit tree or even a grove of them, but I’m not sure about windage or the weight of snow there might be in winter.”

“It is a fine thought, Blessed Geraint- _sensei_. Oranges and lemons grown at New Hope would be something else. Perhaps we could start with a small one and see what happens.”

“Indeed, Blessed Guildmaster- _sensei_.” Kel noted the new vocative with an internal sigh, but the Emperor seemed genuinely interested, as well he might be. “A small structure that extended the growing season, even by a few weeks, would be a boon for many of Our subjects, especially those in the mountains where winter bites soonest and last longest. And this wonder comes of the collaboration the Guild fosters?”

Geraint needed no prodding, but spoke simply. “Entirely so, Your Imperial Majesty. Only together could mortals, basilisks, and ogres see that it could be done, and the strengths of all have made it happen.”

“An eloquently plain case, Blessed Geraint- _sensei_. And We are the more delighted to know there will soon be a branch of the Guild in Heian-Kyó, to aid our architects and sailors, and doubtless many others. Truly, you bring us many delights, Blessed Protector- _sensei_.”

“It is my honour, my Emperor.” He might be dancing vocatives, but Kel had no need, and there was something more important. “Yet while the structure is the Guild’s achievement, the decoration must be Lord Sakuyo’s own. How did it come about, Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ , that your temple so wonderfully displays _kanji_ of good omen and the High One himself?”

“It was the strangest thing, Lady Kel. Blessed Guildmaster- _sensei_ , I should say.” She waved a hand in negation. “I had two most vivid dreams in the very week we arrived at Edo and saw the site. One was of a voice that patiently explained to me a mathematics of curved surfaces, so that I woke knowing it utterly, though I had gone to sleep in complete ignorance. We worked it through, and it was exactly what we needed to describe the potential all had seen. And a few days later I dreamed a long list of numbers that I frantically wrote down on waking. It took us a while to realise they were references for a curved surface also, but then we mapped them and a young _kamunushi_ the Temple had assigned to us recognised both _kanji_ and eventually the portrait.” Geraint shook his head. “It was not easy, for image paid no attention to structure, sprawling across hexagons as it needed, so it wasn’t a tiling pattern we could follow but another whole design layer. But in the end Manian’aan worked out how to do it with the rock-spell, varying the translucency, and though it took some fiddly work, you see the outcome.”

“I do. And the orientation? The High One’s face looks towards this imperial residence.”

“Oh. It does, doesn’t it. But the placement was integral to the numbers, Lady Kel. It is as it was dictated to me, and no-one has said anything against that. Is it —”

“Not in the least, _sensei_. Merely a fact to be duly noted.” Her gaze found the Emperor’s. “Though how Lord Sakuyo’s portion of the due fee is to be calculated escapes me, my Emperor. If he manifests, as we must suppose he will, and the opportunity arises, I’ll ask him.”

There was what Kel supposed was a pregnant silence, with half the Yamanis about the Emperor paling and the other half reddening, as if she’d said something rude. Thayet’s emotions were hidden behind her face paint, but Jonathan’s smile was somewhere between amused and sardonic as he caught her Papa’s quiet translation. She thought a Yamani man she didn’t recognise, a local lord from his dress, was going to protest but it was the Empress who broke the silence, her hand resting lightly on her husband’s arm.

“Of your grace, Blessed Keladry- _chan_. We should be glad to be sure what the High One finds acceptable is such a delicate matter. Yet I confess myself surprised no word of these strange dreams came to Heian-Kyó.”

A _kamunushi_ who must be the senior local divine, one Revered Eiji if she recalled the correspondence rightly, bowed deeply, face serene.

“This fortunate one shared the dreams, Your Imperial Majesties, just as Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ describes them, as did others of the Temple here, so though the numbers meant nothing to us we were as sure as he they came from Lord Sakuyo. So too the shared and vivid dreams of _gaijin_ and immortal presences that made us send to the Guild in the first place. But the First Temple in Heian-Kyó had expressed so many doubts of our judgement in commissioning the Guild, and so harshly, we thought it easier not to burden them with another revelation, and when we prayed for guidance we found ourselves most easy about that decision.”

Face paint did have its uses after all, for without hers Kel would have been grinning, and a calm stillness served her better with the Emperor raising an eyebrow at her.

“We know Lord Sakuyo did not care for interference with his calligraphy, my Emperor, and it would seem he forestalled any with his chosen architecture. I wonder what Lord Hidetaki has made of the sight he affords us.”

The _kamunushi_ remained serene but acquired an appreciative air, as well as frank curiosity in his eyes. “Alas, he professes himself entirely horrified at the abandonment of the traditional pagoda design, Blessed Guildmaster- _sensei_ , and says looking at it gives him a headache.”

“Oh … dear. Does he not see the _kanji_ and portrait?”

“Not yet, I think, though we have pointed them out to him. He will when he enters the building. But forgive my dreadful manners, Blessed. I am Eiji, and have the honour to lead the _kamunushi_ of Lord Sakuyo in this city.”

“Keladry of New Hope, Revered Eiji.” He was very surprised to be offered her hand, quite against Yamani protocol, but if the Emperor wanted her as Guildmaster and Protector to stand apart she might as well take advantage to suit her own notions of courtesy. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“And my great honour to meet you, Blessed. The tales of you are most wonderful, and were most confusing until I was able to read your book, some days ago now.”

Kel wanted to crow delight — at last someone who got it, and a sensible _kamunushi_ to boot — but only inclined her head.

“Indeed. You were meant to have a copy rather sooner, I imagine, than Lord Hidetaki’s so zealous doubts about Lord Sakuyo appending himself allowed. And as you have perhaps heard, the High One was not entirely amused.”

“So I gathered, Blessed. May I ask frankly if he has spoken to you at all of what he desires of us this day?”

“Not a word, Revered Eiji.”

“Ah. More surprises, then.”

“Oh yes.”

“And your own business this day, Blessed?”

“Proper respect only, unless Lord Sakuyo dictates otherwise. But should he manifest, the dragons Lady Skysong and Lord Diamondflame have some business of their own. It does not concern mortals at all, but as Guildmaster and Lady Skysong’s guardian I have some slight interest.”

He processed that, worry coming into his eyes. “They are most astonishing beings, Blessed, and all were amazed to be greeted by them as we came here. _They_ seemed to appreciate the temple, also. But I do not believe the greater can fit into even the space Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ has built us, for the door is not large enough to admit him.”

“Oh he’ll deal with that, Revered. Dragons go where they will, always. But while it is, as I say, no mortal business, his presence is of high importance to gods and dragons alike. We should all appreciate its symbolism, for Lord Diamondflame is old enough to remember the sorrow of the Godwars, and he as much as we celebrates a new peace. But, believe me, Revered Eiji, and all who hear, he will _not_ want to talk about it, save to the High One. Recall his words in the book about the limits to which mortals may safely presume. I counsel against exploring those limits.”

“Wisdom indeed, Blessed. Just another guest then, however he is so very large and disconcerting, and has some private business with a god?”

Kel suppressed a grin, though she’d bet her amusement showed in her eyes. “Exactly so, Revered. We just get on with it, and those beyond us do as they will and need.”

“Very well.” He took a deep breath. “Then there is only one other thing, Blessed, which I confess I have been putting off in some trepidation. We have as yet no statue of the High One, for those we tried to commission reported vivid dreams telling them to decline, with an assurance that what was needed would be provided. Which it has not yet been. Would it happen that you know anything of this, Blessed?”

Kel savoured the joke. Lord Sakuyo’s silence might have been annoying, but it was paying dividends, and her sense of anticipation grew.

“As it happens, Revered, I think I do. Tobe, could you please fetch the carving we brought as a dedication gift.” She looked around, catching Eitaro’s eye and others’ who had heard her at Suzuoka, including Isao- _sensei_. “It is such a large dome, my Prince, and such a very small carving for this purpose.”

Eitaro thought about it for a moment, and half-smiled, nodding. “So it begins, Blessed Keladry- _chan_. He is being most thematic, isn’t he? Though this so small carving might grow in place, I suppose.”

“That’s a thought. But staying small might work better.”

“May this puzzled one ask the theme, Your Imperial Highness?”

“Of course, Revered. It’s somewhat complicated in anything other than _haiku_ , but perception and reality covers it, I think. Blessed Keladry- _chan_?”

“Yes.” Kel wagged a hand. “Or truth and illusion, but he has them playing tag again.”

“As he did with you at New Hope, Blessed. So you mean the carving might grow as your paintings are said to have done?”

“Exactly, Revered. You are a prince among _kamunushi_ , as well as a _kamunushi_ among princes.” The Emperor had a look that was thoughtful as well as full of amused agreement. “And there is the theme of art also, running through all, though whether as a means or an end I have no idea.”

Eiji nodded slowly. “Mmm. Interesting, Blessed. We say art is its own end, but surely it may teach us of truth and illusion, while perception and reality are always at its heart. And the art of Blessed Geraint- _sensei_ and the immortals who have laboured here on our behalf has taught us much already. I begin to see, I think. Ah, is this the statue?”

Tobe would have given it to her, but at her gesture bowed to Revered Eiji and knelt to offer it to him, both hands carefully on the base. The imperials came to his side, peering as reverently as he, and another silence fell.

“It is exquisite, Blessed. Yet as you saw an absurdity may attend it when we set it in place. Although … no, I cannot tell. And noon approaches. Perhaps we should just proceed and see what happens.”

* * * * *

There had been a fishing village at Edo for centuries, but it was only in the Emperor’s grandfather’s reign that it had really begun to grow as a port, and both the imperial residence and the temple district were west of the mercantile docks and new houses, the land around them still open though some cherry groves had been planted. A path — or a young road — had been built directly from the Emperor’s front door to the High One’s, and was lined twenty and thirty deep with Edoans of all ages, in fullest fig and entirely unable to stop staring in many directions at once.

There were the Emperor and Empress, with the Princes, the _gaijin_ King and Queen and mixed Crown Couple, the famous female warrior whose eyes really were purple, some of the rumoured spidren samurai, new basilisks and ogres large and small, and the unbelievable dragons. The stormwings were circling lazily in a feeding pattern, so Kel knew there was fear as well as wonder and joy in people’s hearts, but her attention was on the looming temple, appreciating its pure lines more as the angle made the portrait invisible. Kit was enthusiastic too, thinking it would be fun to light up its stone, and even Diamondflame was complimentary.

_It is another new thing, strong and clever as well as pleasing to the eye. And though my size makes people afraid, those here are already far less troubled than were those elsewhere. New Hope’s peaceful cooperation will spread faster than I had thought._

“I hope so, my lord. And I suspect we’re in for a memorable joke to speed it on its way.”

 _Very probably._ He sounded more resigned than curious. _Still, Sakuyo is at least doing something more interesting than annoying, and one has to admire the scale of it._

“From your perspective that’s saying something.”

He snorted a laugh, causing a ripple in the crowd. _Ah, Protector. These days you do not deal on so much smaller a scale yourself, you know._

Kel was still thinking about that with a sense of the ridiculous when they came to the doors, austerely beautiful in plain, richly grained wood, and as Revered Eiji ceremonially pushed them back and invited the Emperor and Empress to enter she caught her first glimpse of the interior. For a Sakuyan temple it looked amazingly austere, but as she passed inside at Dom’s side she realised why it had to be so. The pattern on the petrified hexagons was of thinner, more translucent stone, the whole letting through a hazy wash of light but projecting the pattern of _kanji_ and portrait in brighter light onto darker stone forming the curve of the further wall, so the god in all his jesting and tranquility shimmered before them, vast and ethereal. In the centre was a tall circular plinth intended for the statue, flanked by two large and slightly lower oblongs of clean stone creating platforms where worshippers could stand in ceremony ; mirror-symmetrical steps cut diagonally across their front faces reminded her of Geraint’s enthusiasm for perrons.

The rest of the space was bare save for neat tatami matting, but packed with people — including, she was pleased to see, a block of commoners, fishermen, port, and field workers with their families, so all of Edo was represented. Solemn excitement at sight of the imperials dissolved into goggling as Diamondflame used magic to enter and grant himself space without affecting the pattern of light or the simple symmetry of plinth and stone. He didn’t say anything, but she was aware of his pleasure in the design and airy space, and of Kit’s. The imperials were pleased too, and though her mind was full of her own appreciation of the way it was at once new and deeply Yamani, she enjoyed the looks on Jonathan’s and Alanna’s faces. Even Haarist’aaniar’aan seemed struck, rotating his head to take it in and saying something in the sliding-gravel noise of the basilisks’ own tongue that had Manian’aan looking pleased. As they took their places Kel found Revered Eiji in front of her.

“Blessed, it being your gift, might you honour us by placing the statue, before Lord Hidetaki makes his dedication address?”

She noticed the First _Kamunushi_ had arrived from somewhere, with Lord Kiyomori, and was standing with a pinched face before a crowd of Sakuyan _kamunushi_ whose faces told her at once whether they came from Heian-Kyó or Edo. How should the jest play out?

“Is that not Lord Hidetaki’s own privilege, Revered?”

“One might think so, Blessed, but he would not, ah …”

“No, he wouldn’t, would he?” First _Kamunushi_ or no, he wasn’t the man to appreciate the absurdity involved. “Well, if you desire it, Revered.”

Tobe had carried the statue down, and Kel had brought the heavier pickle-box herself. They swapped, and in a new silence no less filled with goggling she walked forward and climbed the steps of the left-hand platform. Kimonos as much as piety made it wise to kneel before leaning forward to place the statue on the plinth, and she felt hilarity threaten as for all its grace it _was_ invested by an absurdity ; but it wasn’t yet the time, and the absurdity was so great it would soon seem heavy-handed. Keeping her face grave with some difficulty, and once again allowing that face-paint had its uses, she stood, contemplating the foot-high carving and the great shimmering spread of the portrait in light. Sight of Lord Hidetaki’s horrified expression nearly undid her.

“Mmm. If you will permit yourself the repetition, High One, perhaps just as large as life would be the richer jest.”

Laughter whispered in the air, or perhaps only in her mind, and with a soft silver glow the statue slowly enlarged until saving colour it was just as she’d seen him before his shrine at New Hope that day. The glow faded again, though something silver remained about the carved eyes, and it was perfectly right. People had exaggerated ideas about the gods, too, and the contrasts of dappled light and simple, graceful wood just reaching her shoulder spoke to them exactly. The silence was deeper and Yamani eyes wider than ever.

“Marvellous. Thank you, my Lord, and all honour to you.”

She curtseyed to the statue and straightened, surveying the ranks before her. Revered Eiji had a look of pure pleasure on his face, sensible man, and Lord Hidetaki an expression one might rather associate with severe indigestion. But it was his turn, and a tickling mischief loosened her tongue as she looked down at him.

“Is it not a wonder, my lord? And quite done growing, I think, if you would care to begin.”

He wasn’t happy about it, even now, but came forward, and the look he gave her as she timed it so that he had to wait a moment while she cleared the steps was laced with anger and some darker disquiet. She would have returned to stand by Dom and Tobe, but a gesture from the Emperor brought her to his side, next to Eitaro.

“If you do not mind, so very Blessed Keladry- _chan_ , I think I will need you beside me.”

His voice was a murmur, and she nodded, turning to watch Hidetaki gain the platform. He studied the statue for a moment, and then the crowd, mixed emotions all too clear and voice harsh when he spoke.

“A wonder the Blessed Protector- _sensei_ calls it, and so all must agree. Statues should not change size. And this strange building is a great marvel, many say, with auspicious _kanji_ and an image of the High One they claim to find in the pattern of light. More, we live, it seems, in a time of wonders, when spidrens fight alongside samurai against _ronin_ , and immortals pass judgement of death on a great lord.”

She saw the Emperor’s hands tense but even Hidetaki wasn’t going there, only reviewing a fact. And he had spine, whatever his failings.

“That I erred myself in the matter of the Blessed Protector- _sensei_ ’s book is plain. Its last words are truly those of the High One, as all must now know, but I do not understand his purpose in writing them. Nor in desiring this building, if he did, however marvellous its construction. Yes, it has a beauty of its own, but it lacks all tradition. It may be inauspicious, and for all these wonders about us I fear that Revered Eiji leads his _kamunushi_ and all Edoans astray.”

He really did, too. Kel could hear the sincerity in his voice, but she didn’t think it would save him now, and listened with growing anticipation as he lamented the abandonment of the pagoda form and triple rooves, so rich in symbolic and accumulated value. When he passed on to the sheer unwisdom of failing to commission a proper statue for the shrine, and relying on the High One himself to make good the deficit, most improperly, however gracious his divine response, she nearly laughed aloud. He did have a knack of missing a point most thoroughly, and was intent on capping his own incomprehension — but behind him, at long last, without any betraying silver and with a finger delicately across his lips, enjoining silence from all, the High One slipped into the world. The old head cocked attentively, mischief dancing in starry eyes, and Kel felt divine power gripping all to prevent any from prostrating themselves.

“Are we then to abandon the tradition of centuries without thought or regret? To heed those who are neither Yamani nor mortal before our own wisdom and ancestral ways? To follow dreams that make no sense? How can we know this _is_ what the High One wants?”

“You could always ask me, my son. Not that you seem to listen very carefully to my answers.”

Sakuyo’s voice was mild, the look on Lord Hidetaki’s face priceless as with infinite slowness he turned, shock giving way to mortified horror. Silver flicked from long fingers, and the _kamunushi_ froze — just as the stormwings had contorted and Haarist’aaniar’aan had frozen the faces of the _Sekkinukesaku_ , though less permanently, Kel very much hoped, even in her fascinated satisfaction.

“Perfect. Forgive me, my son, but on your own you could not hold the required pose. Now then, let’s see.”

A wave of one hand produced a curiously curved easel and canvas, with an extension holding paint-pots and brushes that Sakuyo took up. With a long glance at the immobile Hidetaki he began to paint, using both hands with great speed, and Kel’s bubbling amusement, which was becoming quite painful to suppress, eased into a glittering elation as she wondered how long he’d be about it and realised everyone was still gripped by his power because they would _all_ be painted, and a sea of prostrate backs was _not_ what he had in mind. But Diamondflame wasn’t gripped by anything, nor other immortals, and she found she could turn her head to meet his gaze and share his unspoken thought. _Gods!_

“Just so, Keladry- _chan_ , but I _am_ a god, and perfectly capable of doing two things at once, or even three.” Sakuyo hadn’t turned round or stopped painting, and the old voice was just as rich and sly as she remembered. “Do bring Skysong up. I expect she’s curious, and we owe one another some thanks you will find interesting.”

Why he owed Kit thanks Kel didn’t know, and Diamondflame had a speculative look. But the divine pressure that continued to grip all mortals save her was an awkwardness that would rapidly grow worse, although she did appreciate the spectacle of the impious Sakuyans quite unable to prostrate themselves when they would truly wish to do so.

“Might you let people stand on their own, my lord? I’m sure none will be so silly as to move before you have painted them.”

“Are you? Optimist. But so are we all, these interesting days.”

The power did not withdraw, but it eased a little, and she did what else she could by offering the imperials a curtsey and excusing herself before walking across to the dragons. Diamondflame lowered his head to her, mindvoice private.

_No, I don’t know what he meant, Keladry, but I think he offers more good will, easing our difficulty in thanking any god for anything. I will be listening hard, and may speak directly, but for now let Skysong say what she must._

She gave a fractional nod, and knelt, holding out an arm to a pensive dragonet. “Those steps would be awkward for you.”

_Yes, they would. I cannot decide if this is annoying or not._

Kel swallowed a laugh. “Well, why not wait and see if you’re annoyed afterwards? Meantime, let’s not be rude and keep Lord Sakuyo waiting.”

Kit let herself be scooped up, clicking a greeting to Ebony, all but invisible against Kel’s dark green _obi_. Once again Kel climbed the stone steps, and they both peered for a moment at the scene beginning to take shape beneath Sakuyo’s flying brushes — a panorama of the moment they all stood in, Hidetaki gaping a horror of mortification and chagrin, her own face alight with amusement, the Emperor’s and Empress’s wide-eyed but appreciative, and others appearing by the second with every human expression you could imagine. The curved canvas, which she realised would expand to fit the rear wall, allowed an encompassing view in which its own intended location would figure towards the top, and she wondered if there would be a receding series of self-replications there or something else entirely. The train of thought was arrested by Kitten’s plaintive mindvoice.

_Thank you for warning Kel so she could save my life, god Sakuyo. I would not like being dead._

He might be able to do ever so many things at once, and didn’t stop painting, but he did look at Kit, who had spoken in modeless Yamani.

“You are very welcome, dragon Skysong, and I claim no debt. I could not be indifferent to harm offered one who scolds my brother Mithros so very admirably. My sister Shakith warned me of futures in which you died, so I watched closely. And it was but a warning — Keladry- _chan_ did all the work.”

_I have said thank you to Kel already. And she is always kind. But why do you think you owe me any thanks? I do not understand that._

“Ah, but it was danger to you that made Keladry- _chan_ act, as I hoped she would. For all her fierceness she is most exasperatingly modest, and was so very determined not to presume on my imagined wishes she would not act for herself.” Sakuyo was, Kel realised, entirely audible to all, and indignation flared. “Until poor Michizane in his delusions acted against _you_ , little one, and then she was entirely splendid.” He glanced at her, grinning at the outraged splutter she hadn’t been quite able to suppress. “But it is true, Keladry- _chan_. I could stand between any number of griffins and say it without so much as blushing.”

“You, my lord,” she told him wrathfully, “could stand between griffins and say two and two made eleventy-three. And I shouldn’t think you _can_ blush.”

“Harsh but true.” He grinned again, delightedly, before turning back to his painting, now crowded with faces and beginning to fill with patterns of  light. “But only consider, Keladry- _chan_. I am but a poor god. My brother Mithros owes _me_ no rueful favours, nor my brother Weiryn, who would no more let me lead his Hunt than talk in _haiku_.”

“That was _you_.”

“Was it? You’re a better poet than you know, daughter. And I ask you, can _I_ command the presence of dragons, or restrain their righteous wrath by promising them justice for their threatened kit? No, no — we gods were all most puzzled by the difficulty building here in Yaman, yet untouched by the Timeway’s roil, and there you were, with so many resources willing to your hand. Eager too, half of them, for more fun with you, just like the darkings. Whatever did you expect of us?”

“What did _I_ expect? Why, you, you …” Thought caught up with outrage. “Do you mean that was all just _me_? Not what you wanted at all?”

“It was _exactly_ what was needed, Keladry- _chan_ , but I had no thought of wanting it thus. Only that if I placed you here amid it all — or yes, inveigled you, but you are so honourably inveiglable, not that that word exists — you would as always cleave to the heart, caring for all who could possibly be saved. And so you did. With a little prodding.” A flurry of wide-armed brushwork added a tracery of shadows to the image. “And you _were_ splendid, truly. I cannot remember when so much unexpected laughter last filled so many of us at once. Your flame was so bright, your purpose so pure, your method so marvellously direct and absurd, all at once, and your laughter so terrible, quite rivalling ours.”

“Pfui.” She shook her head, emotions exploding in all directions. “Flatterer. The rest, my lord, maybe, but that’s sheer nonsense.”

“Is it, Keladry- _chan_?” His voice became thoughtful as his hands added the loom of the curving roof, and hovered over the area where an infinite recession might be possible. “What should go here, do you think? A portrait of Geraint- _sensei_ and his team, who have done such fine work? Or of young Skysong, who made so much possible? Mmm. I know.” Hands moved again. “It is true you cannot yet laugh as terribly as we. I was employing rhetorical licence. But it is also true that were there a suitability test for godhead, which is very nearly what use of that staff amounts to, you would have passed with flying colours.”

“Don’t you dare! I have a mortal life to live, my lord, and it’s been messed about quite enough already.”

“Timing, merely.” He waved a hand and brush, though no paint spattered. “And I’m afraid not, daughter. You have made yourself far too interesting for gods or dragons, or anyone else for that matter, to keep their hands off for long. My brother of death guards you fiercely, but you already joke with his daughter, and one of these days you’ll invite _him_ to dinner, out of pure kindness.”

Kel nearly stamped her foot, but managed to draw a very deep breath instead. “He deserves a dinner more than you do.” She took another breath as he grinned, hands flying. “My lord, are you really telling me that you’d have let the murder of your poor _kamunushi_ and the attempt on Kit’s life go unpunished if _I_ hadn’t acted?”

“Who now knows, daughter? Not even my sister Shakith, I think. And who cares, when there is no need? You did act, spectacularly so, which is why I commemorate it.”

Even as he spoke she could see the painting-within-a-painting take shape under swift brushes, with her unloading Fujiwara’s mother from Lord Arawn’s back and the Hunt with so many others looking on, faces tiny but still recognisable. He somehow had hers combining rage and pity, and her outrage faded into an amusement laced with thin sorrow for the dead as she saw the contrast there would be between that version of her and the smiling one from today below it.

“If you say so, High One, who can contradict you? But it was all so muddling. Couldn’t you have made yourself plainer?”

“Not by one whisker, my daughter. And it was as well I didn’t, for only with the purest outrage, and true cause, can any mortal summon and command the Wild Hunt. Besides, as your poor king will tell you, you really aren’t very good at obeying orders. Or far too good, depending on one’s perspective. No, a general brief and a free hand suits you best, by a long mile, and while gods may of necessity be annoying, we are not fools. I hoped to set up a jest by adding to your most interesting ‘Note’, and gladly acknowledged it when you asked me so finely, but the hand you played was your own.”

Diamondflame leaned forward, extending his neck to look more closely at the painting, and Kel caught his eye.

“Did you know that, my lord?”

_I strongly suspected it, Protector. The gods were too surprised for it to be their idea. And in answering your own need you answered ours, and the basilisks’, as well as the gods’ and Daichi noh Takuji’s. It was well done, as Sakuyo says._

His mindvoice stopped, but Kel knew he was speaking privately to Sakuyo, not in words alone but with that vast wave of mental exchange she sometimes half-sensed between adult dragons. The god’s hands didn’t stop painting, but after a moment they did shift area, adding to the watching crowd the forms of Diamondflame and Kitten, the elder dragon utterly majestic, the younger delightfully alive with her usual curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Diamondflame withdrew his head with what Kel interpreted as a resigned snort, but she didn’t think he was displeased. Kitten shifted in her arms, peering.

_Oh, that is a better picture of me than the portrait at New Hope._

“Perhaps I am a better painter, little one. Or perhaps you have grown more paintable.”

Kit frowned, and swivelled her head to look at Kel, who smiled.

“A bit of both, I think, Kit. But if you’re all done, there are others who owe Lord Sakuyo duty today.”

“So there are, daughter. And I adore presents. I’m nearly finished with this, so do bring them all along.”

Surprised, Kel’s mind raced through the politics, realising that the Emperor would find it easier if only one person — no longer present in Yaman — had stood between him and the High One. She also reckoned numbers, and briefly considered the still frozen figure of Lord Hidetaki.

“Of course, my lord. And as you’ve finished the portrait of Lord Hidetaki, might you release him?”

Starry eyes rested briefly on her. “Generous to a fault, as ever. He had many most unkind thoughts about you, you know. And I really can’t have a First _Kamunushi_ who simply will not appreciate my jokes, however sincere his traditionalism.”

“Even so, my lord. The overdone jest is no jest.” It was a traditional Sakuyan caution, and his smile was warm. She set Kit down. “Let me take him?”

“If you insist, Keladry- _chan_.”

She saw no gesture but felt power withdraw from Lord Hidetaki, and swiftly slipped an arm around the old man as his knees buckled, wincing at the low, terrible sound that came from him, pain and shame and fathomless sorrow all in one. Her other hand found a handkerchief tucked between her kimonos, and seeing how Lord Hidetaki’s hands shook she gently pushed his head upright and carefully dried his streaming eyes, ignoring Sakuyo’s silent laughter.

“Come, my lord.” A trembling hand took the handkerchief. “You must meditate on the great jest you have starred in, and see beyond your own pain the wild kindness to Yaman. But first you owe the High One an apology, and His Imperial Majesty your resignation.”

Words were beyond him, but when she helped him kneel to Sakuyo one long-fingered hand rested on his head in acknowledgement and the wrenching emotions in his eyes dulled. Kel knew he’d be deeply asleep before long, and as she helped him up and supported him descending the steps, Kitten bouncing down in front of her, her eyes found Lord Kiyomori’s and Revered Eiji’s. A crooked finger had them discovering they could move again, and with bows to Sakuyo, still painting away, they cautiously moved to join her as Kitten scampered back to her grandsire and she walked Lord Hidetaki towards the Emperor, who had also bowed to the High One as he found he could. Imperial eyes met her gaze, dark with emotions she couldn’t name, and she shook her head fractionally.

“Words must wait, my Emperor, whatever they are. And I don’t think Lord Hidetaki _can_ speak, but he offers you his sincere apologies and his resignation.”

“I imagine he does, most astonishing and Most Blessed Keladry- _chan_. And We accept them, with thanks for his long service and more for his part in this most exemplary lesson. We also command him _not_ to commit _seppuku_ without Our permission, and to meditate upon his experience for at least a full year before even beginning to consider whether he wishes to seek it.”

Thinking how very Yamani and impossible that was, Kel passed the old man’s weight off to Lord Kiyomori, ignoring the Second _Kamunushi’_ s look and speaking quietly to Revered Eiji, whose eyes were bright.

“He’ll be out like a light in a minute, Revered, so get him lying down somewhere safe, please. But come back swiftly — you need to give Lord Sakuyo your dedication gifts.”

“I hear you, Blessed. And thank you most sincerely, on Lord Hidetaki’s behalf as well as my own.”

“And I, Blessed.” Lord Kiyomori’s voice was ragged. “Your grace is not the least wonder of this day.”

“Isn’t it, my lord? Yet the people who know me will find it funny I had a spare handkerchief, even in kimonos, but no wonder.”

Between them they escorted Lord Hidetaki away, his steps faltering, towards some back door for the _kamunushi_ of the temple. Following their progress for a moment Kel saw Geraint, beside his basilisk and ogre companions, and another face in the crowd, one she hadn’t expected, but was very right. First things must come first, though, and if order was needed, solemnity wasn’t.

“My Emperor, my Empress, my Princes? Time to give the High One his gifts, and see his painting. And if you led, my Emperor, as is proper, you could present your guests, with their gifts.” She lowered her voice. “I’m fairly sure he’s done with hot needles, and it’s all grace now.”

The Emperor took a deep breath, voice little more than a whisper. “Words may have to wait a long time, Keladry- _chan_ , for I do not believe adequate ones exist. And should you not present me?”

“Hardly. Go on up, and I’ll tell the others and bring Eiji and Kiyomori when they get back?”

He nodded, one hand finding Reiko’s and the other Taikyuu’s, and Kel went to Jonathan and Thayet, speaking just loudly enough for the other Tortallans to hear.

“Give the imperials a moment, then follow them up to be introduced by the Emperor as his guests, sire? And present your own gifts?”

“If you say so, Keladry. All of us?”

“Oh yes. And order of precedence, though Dom and Tobe will have to stand in for me, while I marshall Geraint and some others.”

Jonathan just shook his head, but Thayet laid a hand on her arm, gripping tightly for a moment, and Alanna clapped her shoulder softly, muttering.

“The Goddess let me understand Yamani and that was superbly done, Kel, when you must want to crown him.”

Kel swallowed a laugh. “That’s in there, I admit, but all’s well.” She put her own hand on Shinko’s shoulder, not liking the awe in her friend’s eyes. “And not so solemn, Cricket, please. He’s painted you smiling, so you better had. And he’ll be glad to meet you and Roald properly, you know.”

At least it gave Shinko something else to worry about, and Roald nodded, squaring his shoulders despite the wonder in his own eyes. Her parents were also bearing up, though her Papa’s clasp on her hands was hard, his expression unreadable. Yuki was also doing better, and gave Kel a quick, very welcome hug.

“Neal’s theory was right, you know, Keladry- _chan_.”

“Another wonder of the day, Yuki.”

But she gave Neal a hug too, seeing the rich amusement in his green eyes as well as more complicated emotions, and passed to Dom’s fiercer though equally wordless embrace until she heard Tobe’s whisper.

“I shouldn’t be giving the pickles, Ma. It was your idea.”

“He’ll know that, Tobe, and I have to get Geraint. Protocol’s in ruins, anyway.” He followed her glance upwards to see the Emperor kneel and receive Sakuyo’s kiss before being raised to his feet again. Easel and canvas remained, but paint pots and brushes had disappeared. “Just muddle through, eh? You’ll like yourself in the picture, I think. And Kit’s very fine.”

He still didn’t think it was right, but nodded reluctantly, and she left them to cross to Geraint and the immortals, seeing from the corner of her eye Empress and Princes receive their own divine kisses of welcome.

“Lady Kel?”

“Once gifts have been given, Geraint — the _kamunushi_ and I will be last — get yourself and your team up on to the right-hand block, please. He’ll want to thank you all for such a marvellous job, and you deserve to see the last bit of décor as it goes up.”

“He will?”

“Surely. Proper courtesy, brisk return thanks to him for the practical dreams, and to Lord Gainel I imagine, and pleased laughter at his jest. Oh, and thank him on the Guild’s behalf too, if you will. I’ve got too many hats on and we need to know if we owe him anything for his help.”

“Right you are, Lady Kel.” Geraint shook his head. “My poor parents will never believe it. Oh well. Manian’aan, will you …”

Kel left him to it, thinking what a relief it was when people just got on with what was needed and wondering darkly what Tortall would make of this tale, not that there was anything she could do about it. Jonathan and Thayet were presenting gifts, and introducing Roald and Shinko, her face radiant, but there was still no sign of Revered Eiji, and Kel headed deeper into the crowd, grateful that attentions were still riveted on the god. She stopped beside worn Sakuyan robes, obviously cleaned and pressed for the occasion but standing out among the ranks of finery and bright new cloth.

“Katashi- _san_.”

The old _kamunushi_ started and looked at her, other heads turning as they heard her. “Blessed! Forgive me, I was lost in his presence.”

He would have bowed but she forestalled him with a hand on his arm.

“And rightly, Reverence. You came on pilgrimage to the dedication? Bringing a gift?”

“I did, Blessed, but only a poor carving of my own.”

“Yet I rode here in comfort, Reverence, while you walked, bearing your own burden. Nor did I carve, but only commission. Yours is the greater honour, surely. In any case, come, let me take you to the High One you have served so faithfully.”

“Me, Blessed?”

“Yes, you, Reverence. Amid all this beauty and grace, would you not be a cat rather than a pigeon, for once? The First Temple in Heian-Kyó is purged, and Edo prospering, but one from the country would be a good addition, don’t you think? And you might find your return journey rather cheaper.”

As she spoke the shrewd look she remembered returned to his eyes, and was joined by a wry smile.

“Undoubtedly, Blessed.” No innkeeper would dream of charging him with _this_ story to tell. “But I would not presume — ”

“You’re not, Reverence. I am. And as I’ve just been told by unimpeachable authority that I should do so far more …”

That got a real smile. “Most memorably so, Blessed. But I do not think I know very much about being a cat.”

“Learn on the job, Reverence, as I have had to. Come, I see Revered Eiji and Lord Kiyomori returning.”

Tobe was just presenting the pickle-case to a beaming Sakuyo, a nervy Neal and Yuki behind him being drawn in by a determined explanation that the pickles were down to Yuki and the petrified case and pots to her and St’aara. Geraint and the basilisks and ogres were gathered at the foot of the right-hand steps, and she took Katashi- _san_ towards the left ones slowly enough to let Revered Eiji and Lord Kiyomori catch them up, each bearing a dedication gift. Kiyomori’s face was expressionless, but Eiji inclined his head to Katashi and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Honoured Katashi- _san_ , who has served the High One faithfully all his life, and is sensible besides. He represents rural Yaman, beyond old and new cities. More must wait.”

She heard Eiji mutter a genuine welcome to the old man as they climbed the steps, and again blessed his quick wit. Lord Sakuyo was still speaking to a charmed Yuki, but looked up.

“There you are again, Keladry- _chan_ , at last. Still more gifts?”

“Three, my lord, but it isn’t for me to present your own _kamunushi_.”

Stars twinkled. “I doubt they’d mind just now. But on we go.”

Lord Kiyomori didn’t wait to kneel, offering up the traditional scroll of praises, no doubt exquisitely calligraphed, and received brief thanks, a hand laid in blessing on his head, and a scold Kel thought quite mild, all things considered.

“I know you tried, my son, but if deference to a superior was proper a Second should yet correct a First when the First errs so grievously. You would do well to choose your own Second with that in mind.”

He could only wince, and bow his head, promising amendment. Sakuyo nodded and turned. As Kel expected, Revered Eiji’s thanks were rather fuller and his blessing warmer, spiced with lively appreciation of Edoans’ willingness to try something new, however _gaijin_ and against received tradition ; but she found herself distracted by her parents’ expressions, hovering between dazed happiness and serene elation. Her attention snapped back as Sakuyo turned, but Kitashi- _san_ needed no introduction. He was also prevented from kneeling by a long-fingered hand and briefly embraced — a lesson not lost on any Yamani, from the Emperor down.

“No need for that, my son. I know how old knees feel, and you have walked far and fast as well as worrying needlessly. Your service has ever been true, and will not be forgotten. Nor is your carving anything but acceptable, as Keladry- _chan_ knew. Truly, it means more to me than many gifts their givers would think greater, and while most of these are properly for my fine new temple here, yours will grace my dwelling in the Divine Realms.” He looked up, winking at her as the old man’s face became suffused with a helpless pleasure that Kel found more moving than almost anything else. “As will Yuki- _chan_ ’s most wonderful pickles. For once I will be able to invite Weiryn and Sarra to dine without apologising for my poor culinary skills.”

She swallowed emotion. “A likely tale, my lord. But do please convey my warmest respects to them.”

“Oh they are well pleased with you, Keladry- _chan_. Sarra is delighted to think she will have a shrine here, and Weiryn most taken with your care of his hounds. But come with me now while I thank Geraint- _sensei_ and these so talented immortals for my marvellous temple.”

Dressed as she was Kel would have used the steps to go round, but he took her hand and she found herself floated effortlessly across the gap to the other block. His exchanges with basilisks and ogres were interesting, she thought in a detached way, without the old constraints that came between gods and dragons and with a genuine, mutual curiosity about the pleasure all had taken in pioneering work. Geraint he sent quite pink with embarrassment, and shook off any question of his own share in the design.

“No, no, _sensei_. The mathematics merely allowed me to describe for you the pattern I could imagine, and I could imagine it only because you and these clever immortals conceived what was jointly possible. It is Keladry- _chan_ all over to think I have a claim, but quite needless. And I must hope you have no objections to my addition now to your design.”

“How could I, my lord? But will the painting and your image in light not clash?”

“Not if I’ve got it right, _sensei_ , which I have, of course. Watch now.”

Silver flared, the easel vanished, and the oddly curved painting floated slowly towards the further wall, enlarging as it went. Colours rippled as they caught the shafts of light, and as it reached full size, fixing itself exactly to the curved stone, many voices cried out, Kel’s among them, for the two were utterly in harmony. The mouth of light fell on the imperials and her laughing beside them ; the eyes of light fell on the blocks of stone, so the distorted face of Lord Hidetaki and the smiling god who stood behind him made one seem to wink ; and the illuminated lines of forehead and hair trailed over the inset image of her and the Hunt, connecting the hounds still pouring down from the air to her astride Lord Arawn, and again lighting the imperials and their Tortallan guests. And it was, like the god himself, at once clear and dizzying, the face in light strengthened by the colours it picked out, and the construction of the painting emphasised by what was lit and what left shadowed — but together they were too overwhelming to take in, her eyes flickering between one perception and the other as the whole and its rich parts each demanded attention. A hand rested lightly on her shoulder and she knew the voice was private, for her alone.

“Use the net, beloved daughter, and let yourself see both at once.”

She had to concentrate counterproductively for a moment to see how the net might be used for this, but then let the double vision pass through her, not fighting it in foolish attempts to hold both. The calm of her lake deepened to the stillness of windless winter dawn, and a part of her knew with utter clarity that this was her own hard-won power, not Sakuyo’s loan but only his teaching ; a gift, like all good teaching, of oneself, with no payment due. There was still the busy, funny picture, and there was still the god in light, but there was also a third image, picked out both by light and splashes of unilluminated but bright colour, for the images of herself and Sakuyo, with Hidetaki’s contorted face, Tobe, Dom, Kit, and the curve of Diamondflame’s tail, outlined a third _kanji_ , not _jest_ or _tranquility_ but a simple version of _kenkouji_ , a healthy child.

“Ah, you see it. It is what we — I with your help, and you with mine — have been able to offer to the Timeway, as its pattern for the next great spiral. Shakith and Gainel have helped, and the Goddess, but it is you and I who have delivered.” For one flashing second she thought thunder cracked somewhere, though there were no echoes. “Tell me now, Keladry- _chan_ , was this not worth it all?”

“Every blessed minute, of course.” Lost in wonder, she heard herself speaking in the familiar mode. “It’s too gorgeous for words. And kind, but I always knew you were. Does Kitten see it?”

“Diamondflame will show her. _He_ did so even as he watched me paint, and adjusted his tail to ease my task. _And_ I had to thank him for so very graciously giving Daichi an enormous boost. You are most wonderfully even-handed for my favourite daughter.”

“Dragons are good for you.” Intuition cracked. “And there’s more, isn’t there? New Hope was always about the young. I remember Diamondflame asking Kawit how her eyes saw it — youngest dragon, basilisk, and stormwing, eldest dragons, stormwing, and spidren. Tobe and Irnai, too. And me. The Timeway’s rebuke was about the young, and this is the gods’ answer. One of them, anyway.”

The light hand squeezed. “Just so. I told Mithros you’d get it on your own, so he’ll owe me.”

She felt only amusement at gods betting on her — she’d realised they did that long ago — but knew one thing she wanted with blazing certainty, despite its costs. “Please do one thing for me, my lord? Just for a moment, let some other people see — Dom and Tobe, and my poor Mama and Papa, and Alanna. More if you can manage it.”

“Of course I can, daughter. But your trouble with Shinkokami will not be helped. Even Neal’s perceptive theory troubles her, you know. She was _very_ well brought up.”

Kel couldn’t doubt it, though she mourned it. “I trust your judgement, my lord. As many as can bear it, then. We mortals need to know suffering was worthwhile sooner than you gods allow.”

“Truth, Keladry- _chan_. But this is true also, that we gods need to push you mortals harder than you can quite bear. And to see through the dazzle will be will be painful for most mortal minds.”

Kel nodded. “Even so, my lord.” She faced her own truth. “Growing always hurts. And this should be known by more than one mortal.” She shrugged lightly, feeling his hand tighten again. “Why it was me in the first place, I’ll never understand. But here I am. Dom and Tobe at least have a right to understand it all.”

“Do they, daughter?”

“Oh yes. They have to put up with us both.” He grinned. “And you haven’t laughed yet, you know. Not properly. You’ll need lots of Yamani blesseds for all this.”

“So I will. And you aren’t wrong, Keladry- _chan_ , only so very blunt about it all. Just don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. Eitaro and Reiko will understand, and Daichi, but your Jonathan will have a headache for days.”

Kel thought about that, briefly, remembering that she would be on a boat with Jonathan for most of those days — a small, finite boat at that.

“Thayet, then, and Roald. They can tell him about it.”

“Pragmatist.”

His voice was mock-disapproving, and Kel stared into his starry eyes, feeling laughter rise. Silver and thunder cracked together, encompassing time, and she was aware of startled visions of the third _kanji_ rippling across minds, even of Tobe blurting its meaning to Dom, and of Thayet’s hand clenching around her husband’s. Then the shaking took her, joining Sakuyo’s impossible thunder, laughter echoing from the roof and the sky beyond ; and it spread, Kitashi- _san_ and Revered Eijo giving in to the tide of merriment as imperials did, and Tortallans, and Yamanis in a great wave, and even lesser immortals, basilisks hissing laughter amid ogres’ booming. Sakuyo himself was gone, as quietly as he had come, thunder fading, but the whooping, unstoppable laughter, passing through humour and pain to somewhere beyond both, did not stop until streaming eyes and nose made her breath uneven and laboured, as well as messy. Shuddering into steadiness, she groped for a handkerchief, finding only one left, and mopped her eyes, seeing dazed and breathless exhaustion around her, and almost choking at the thought that even she could never have carried enough handkerchieves for _this_.

Thunder boomed again and faded, and the air filled, not with blossom but with neat squares of white cotton, one falling precisely into her open hand, showing an entwined monogram of _Sakuyo_ and _Protector_. Renewed laughter threatened, but a body could only take so much, and she composed herself, finding her lake still wintery, as unmoving as ice.

“Thank you, my lord. And so very well pressed. Here.” She gave the handkerchief to Geraint in time to grab another from the air. “You need this, _sensei_.”

* * * * *

One thing New Hope and Dom had both taught Kel was that exhilaration and exhaustion went together, and she wasn’t remotely surprised when the somewhat stumbling but wholehearted festivities of the rest of that long day soon ran themselves ragged and broke up into small knots of people who already knew one another. It was easier that way.

The imperials congregated, and the royals with Alanna, though Roald and Shinko eventually drew them together. Neal and Yuki were with her brother and parents. Revered Eiji, sensible even in a state of dazed elation, had given her one deep bow and simple, sincere thanks, before gathering his _kamunushi_ and some local lords. Other Edoans clustered, coming to grips with what had passed in their new temple, and so did visiting courtiers and _kamunushi_. Even Diamondflame and Kitten were talking to Haarist’aaniar’aan and Queen Barzha, sated and soft-voiced, Hebakh at her side. Geraint might have been odd man out, but he was with his team of ogres and basilisks, while Kitashi- _san_ had decided after a long, still moment that his true duty lay with the prostrate Lord Hidetaki, a choice Kel honoured while reminding him to laugh about it all too.

After removing her face-paint with relief, she wound up with Dom, Tobe, the sleeping twins, and her parents in one of the Imperial Residence’s many smaller tea-rooms, and before anyone could object politely commandeered a hovering, gawping servant, thanked him for the tea-set he brought at a run, and set about the ceremonial. It was second nature to her parents, and entirely familiar by now to Dom and Tobe, and she drew in and projected the calm she truly felt, her lake winter-still and fathoms upon fathoms deep. When everyone held a steaming, fragrant cup she filled her own, and sank into a cushion with a sigh, thinking herself back into Tortallan.

“It’s too rude, I know, but refills are self-service. I may not move again for a week.”

It was Tobe, bless him, who asked for them all.

“What happened at the end, Ma? The third _kanji_ was ‘child’, wasn’t it? And something very good, but I couldn’t get what exactly.”

“There isn’t an exactly, Tobe, just a divine promise, for whatever it’s worth. _Kenkouji_ is a healthy child, a blessing. Sakuyo said we offered it together to the Timeway, as something like a god’s prayer, I think.” She drank tea, savouring delicate taste. “Another joke, another day. Maybe. I’m sorry for any pain the understanding caused, but I couldn’t bear you all not knowing.”

Her father blinked. “You had a choice, my dear?”

“Not exactly, Papa. Sakuyo showed — no, he didn’t, he let me know I could see it if I would, so I did. And I asked him to share it, because I knew I could never explain.”

“And what was it we had to know?”

“That it was all truly worth something, Papa. A better chance for children.” Truth pressed. “What it was the gods have used you and Mama so mercilessly to help create, over all these years, beyond a good joke on Tortall and Yaman, and New Hope. A bigger hope yet.” She drank, considering. “It was all so absurd and unbelievable already, but I always knew something was still incomplete. Like Jonathan waving his arms about to invoke a fief that’s ridiculously large and me thinking it wasn’t enough because there wasn’t a bridge where there had to be one. And somewhere deep in the Timeway that _kanji_ means the same as _Drachifethe_ , I think — the love and hope of children.” Her hand stroked the twins’ hair softly. “The things that can never be worthless, however bad you feel yourself. And can never be taken for granted, however good you feel.”

Everyone busied themselves drinking tea, but Dom’s hand found her free one, squeezing gently, and a narrow-eyed Tobe, scrutinising her, shrugged.

“Well, thank you then, Ma, although it hurt. Again. Does growing have to hurt like this?”

“I think so, Tobe. It makes us take notice, and care.” She leaned back into her cushions, and Dom. “Too many patterns for anyone mortal, gods know, but what you saw, or sensed, was the one they added up to.”

“The _doukegata’_ s theme, revealed at the end?”

She smiled, too tired to laugh any more. “If you like, Papa. You were right to think I had a freer hand than I could quite believe. I still can’t, really. Honestly. _Yaman’s a knotty problem. Yes, isn’t it? Let’s drop Keladry in there. She’ll fix it._ It’s absurd.”

“Except you did fix it, sweeting. Wonderfully and terribly and words I don’t have. You-ishly.” Ilane laughed, wincing. “Oh my poor ribs. Funny and terrible together is a hard combination. And so much compassion. I don’t think I’ll ever forget poor Lord Hidetaki’s face, but I won’t forget you _arguing_ with Lord Sakuyo for his release and pardon, either. _That_ wasn’t absurd.”

“Wasn’t it, Mama? I was thinking we’d need the space, or someone might have knocked him off the block altogether.”

Tobe snorted. “ _He_ was absurd, grandma.”

“Oh he was, wasn’t he, Tobe? So sincerely idiotic. But your Ma wasn’t, nor her pain and compassion, whatever she says. _Rebuking_ Lord Sakuyo! And that awful sound Hidetaki made, and giving him a hankie. Oh. Oh. I still don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“And isn’t that absurd?” Kel’s voice was very dry. “I mean it the way the gods’ irony is absurd, Mama, to mortal minds, anyway. _They_ just seem to find it funny. May I ask what he said to you both when you met? You were looking a bit dazed by something.”

“By almost everything, my dear. Do you not realise what will truly resonate from today, besides the shattering lesson embodied in that painting? We’ve heard you say some startling things about the gods, and we’ve seen you deal with them, some of them, as, well, a hostess, I suppose. But I hadn’t really understood, though Domitan and Tobeis tried to explain. Today, though, everyone saw and heard you, my dear, mortal honour and respect for the High One as clear as light, but speaking as to close kin. You were in mortal to divine throughout, not an inflection missing, but I’ve never heard any of the high modes used so freely. No Yamani could have done that. And he used parent-to-grown-child just as freely. You didn’t only argue with him, my dear, and come very close to calling him … well, I don’t know what it might have been, but it wouldn’t have been polite. You were _bantering_ with him, and he adored you for it. To say you’ve redefined piety would be too strong, but you’ve given us all a new model for it.”

Kel shook her head. “He has, Papa. He could have kept our conversation private if he wanted, but he didn’t, and if he wanted it all heard, plain speaking had to be best. I don’t know about bantering, but half the problem at least was everyone forgetting he’s a jester, which really is absurd. And as for calling him names, His Nibs is the least of it, and he _likes_ that. Yaman’s wonderful, but it needs to loosen up a bit.”

“So it does, my dear. And you’ve done more to help it do so in the last ten days than anyone would have believed possible. Much as with the Council, come to think of it.”

“Pfui. You still haven’t told me what Sakuyo said to you.”

“He shared our pride, sweeting, and our bafflement.”

Screaming was too much effort, and Kel’s curiosity was diverted by Prince Eitaro, apologising fulsomely for interrupting them. Hauling herself up and waving apologies away, she made fresh tea and, once seated again, gave him an enquiring look which he returned with a wry smile.

“I will not try to burden you with inadequate words, Keladry- _chan_ , though Daichi wished me to convey his very many, most sincere thanks and deep wonder. And to tell you that as Jonathan has invited him to visit Tortall as soon as circumstances here allow, he intends to make a pilgrimage to New Hope.”

Kel flapped a hand. “He’s entirely welcome, my Prince, and a year or three will be enough for all to draw breath.”

“Indeed. Though we really must have your own account of all that happened today before you leave. I’ll send a scribe. But there is one thing about which we would ask your advice now, if we may — the three paintings. Do you know what should be done with them? Clearly they must be properly displayed, but here? Or in Heian-Kyó?”

Kel pondered briefly. “I don’t think it much matters, my Prince. Unless you want them in Heian-Kyó as an anchor against the new pull of Edo and the east.”

Her Papa gave her a sharp glance and looked thoughtful, but Eitaro gave a small nod.

“That is one thought, yes. But Daichi thinks that shift is not to be resisted. It was after all what the western Fujiwaras were fighting against, when all is said and done.”

“His business, my Prince.” Kel shrugged slightly. “Move the paintings about, for all I care. I don’t see they have to stay in one place, so long as they’re together.” An image came, and she tested it before smiling. “But they won’t grow now — it would be labouring the joke — so I’ll tell you what kind of building they should be in, wherever they are — a small freestanding pagoda, very austere in its lines but with all three rooves, one for each painting.” Her Mama put a hand to her mouth, eyes lighting, and Eitaro managed not to snort. “Put one on each wall, and on the fourth the text of the ‘Note’ — framed pages will be fine if you unbind one of the good copies, and whatever space you need for that will give you the dimensions. Nothing bigger. Anyone should be able to enter for free, but they have to read the ‘Note’, and it costs them a _haiku_ to get out again. Call it _Lord Sakuyo’s Joke, Gaijin Style_.”

Eitaro looked at her for a long minute, before putting a hand over his heart and bowing.

“It will be our pleasure to do so, Keladry- _chan_.”

 


	9. Epilogue : The Pilgrims' Way

**Epilogue : The Pilgrims’ Way**

_Mindelan & New Hope, June 466 HE_

Imperial affairs were a slow business, and though letters from the Empress, Keiichi, and Patricine had variously assured Kel that peaceful reduction of former Fujiwara lands was proceeding very satisfactorily, informed her of the marvels the Guild branch was beginning to make commonplace, and spoken delightedly of the shops and businesses founded by the first batch of Empress’s Maids, there had been no thought of the promised visit for more than eighteen months. And that had been fine by her, having had quite enough to do on her own account, what with Geraint’s commissions for Temples of Sakuyo in Corus and at Queenscove, the College of Weapons attached to the Palace, Lord Arawn’s promised visit, and her unexpected Gallan adventure with its aftermath, as well as all the regular and irregular business of a burgeoning and prospering fief the size of a small country. Besides, it wasn’t as if what felt like half of Yaman hadn’t already turned up at New Hope.

The pilgrim stream she’d anticipated was more like a flood, and the commissioned Guild-built wayhouses punctuating the new road from Mindelan, leased to those who ran them, had necessarily acquired simple but extensive dormitories and larger kitchens than first envisaged, as well as guard barracks. It was, she often thought, fortunate that austerity was piously appropriate, and to Yamanis aesthetic, for it had been very necessary. But a great deal of rice as well as pickles now flowed through Mindelan port, heading inland with shoals of fish, and even with only a small profit on each meal and night’s accommodation, she and her Papa each had another sizeable group of prospering liegers and useful income to plough back into the contiguous fiefs.

And then there were the guards, samurai, spidren, ogre, Tortallan, Scanran, and canine. If there was a bandit gang stupid enough to try anything within a hundred miles of the Pilgrims’ Way she’d be interested to meet them, but physical security was the least of it. Squads of the oversize Fourth Company of the King’s Own were paired with samurai-and-spidren squads, all charged with improving as well as defending the Way and its users, and rotated patrol sections on a schedule that took them along its full length in a year. Samurai found it odd to be expected to help with a stuck cart, but not to labour on a sacred roadway ; the Own had quite the opposite reaction, and both learned, while obligatory training and sparring practice led to much thoughtfulness all round. Well and good. The troop of fighting ogres — who had recognised that wars would be in short supply for a while, concluded it would be a good time to see to such things as having children, and decided New Hope was clearly the place to do so — were alternating time on the Way and at New Hope itself, learning Uinse’s and Brodhelm’s routines. And if it only made sense for her to have a proper Scanran Clanchief’s guard, as Ragnar had earnestly insisted, their size and fearsome speed with their axes made them not only impressive but useful sparring partners for everyone, even the ogres. Well and better. What Kel had not foreseen was that Wuodan and the Hunt would without being asked extend _their_ protection to the Way, deeming it a spur of the Great North Road — or so he had told her, tongue lolling but in his cheek just the same. She suspected it had more to do with their being bored while Lord Weiryn was restricted to his own lands, and hadn’t argued, but the tendency of such _very_ large hounds to turn up at wayhouse mealtimes, and observe weapons training with occasional commentary, was keeping things lively, to say the least ; even if they did have to put out the flames in their eyes when they were wheedling cooks and making ironic observations to soldiers.

Owen had of course come to see as soon as he’d heard about it, bringing an only half-reluctant Wyldon with him. Their route from Cavall had joined the Way, and they’d arrived amid the evening tide of Yamani pilgrims, hats bobbing and heads swivelling as guards politely but firmly directed them off the road south of the fin. More dormitories had been built along it, between base and the outlet sough of the corral moat, and there were instructions in clear if sometimes oddly accented Yamani to settle in, eat, clear their minds of travel and distractions, and _not_ present themselves at the Honesty Gate until dawn, when they might do so in orderly fashion. Wuodan’s presence, loping beside Wyldon and greeting Jump with a friendly whuff, hadn’t helped, nor her own as she was identified, though natural Yamani politeness had kicked in once they’d seen she was greeting personal guests. It didn’t stop the stares, though, and when they’d made it over the stone bridge, and the towering bulk of the fin cut off the buzz of voices, she’d given Wyldon a wry look.

“Sorry about all that. They get a bit excited, not unnaturally, and those rules keep things manageable.”

“So Wuodan has been explaining, Keladry. You’ve put an excellent system in place in very little time.”

“Needs must, or we’d be swamped.”

“I imagine, though I didn’t mean only here. The whole Pilgrims’ Way is running smoothly, and the guard arrangements are very sharp, as well as, ah, colourful. Not that I’d expect anything else from you.”

“It’s mostly just logistics and some common sense, Wyldon, as you know perfectly well.” She grinned. “And ridiculous overkill, of course — I shouldn’t think there’s a bandit within a hundred leagues, by now.” Owen nodded his approval. “But with mortals, spidrens, and ogres available pretty much everywhere, most of the time someone who can fix any problem is there swiftly.”

Wyldon nodded. “So we saw. And the way they all train and cross-train, morning and evening — also impressive.”

“Mmm. Are you going to accept the King’s request to join the College of Weapons?”

“Yes, but only as a corresponding member. It’s another very good idea of yours, but I want time at Cavall. I will write a treatise of lance-work for them, though. Goldenlake’s promised to comment, and I’d be glad if you would too, once I’ve anything worth commenting on.”

“Gladly. They landed me with glaives, of course, including from horseback. There isn’t much common ground, except fighting in a mêlée with a broken lance, I suppose. And some legwork, actually, come to think of it.”

“You’ve _practiced_ with a broken lance?”

“Once or twice. Are you telling me you haven’t?”

The discussion had carried them all cheerfully to dinner, but Wuodan had reappeared with the fruit and cheese, also from the direction of the kitchens, and commandeered the rest of the evening by telling Wyldon (of whom he clearly approved) and everyone else in the messhall (a rapidly rising number as word spread) the tale of his first Yamani Hunt. It had been fascinating to hear a hound’s-eye view — and his eyes saw other than hers, as well as working very closely with his nose — but also thoroughly embarrassing, given his strong approval of her tactics and sharp interest in hunting with stormwings and dragons, not to mention a decidedly earthy turn of phrase. Ebony and Button had decided to contribute illustrations, and the laughter when Jadewing had tail-skittled the Fujiwara compound’s samurai guards produced a wheezing toast to her from Uinse with a cheery wave of applause.

But Wuodan’s notion of the Hunt extended to the kill, and though Dom had given her a long look she hadn’t felt able to ask hound or darkings to conceal anything that had happened. So the tale had wound on to the _Sekkinukesaku_ , and the messhall had grown very quiet indeed ; there was a surprise, too, for Wuodan had been back to Heian-Kyó to see what had become known as the Well of Fools, and could convey what he’d seen to the darkings, as Rainbow had. His gaze had been unflinching as he’d padded past saluting samurai guards, down a spiral ramp to a viewing stone before the complex tableau of petrified people.

 _Tobeis named them truly_ , he’d concluded. _Only chance and the Protector’s need made them lawful prey, but the Hunt was righteous, her judgement swift, sure, and stringent. And like the Skullroad, they now serve to deter further offence, which is our purpose. All in all, a most satisfying occasion, and we would be glad to Hunt with you again, Protector, should need arise._

The toast after that had been from Fanche, laconic and well-judged to ease the sombre mood.

“Still proving worth your feed, Lady Kel, even when you’re not here.”

New Hopers had risen and bowed or curtseyed before they’d drunk, and when she’d wound up with Wyldon in her and Dom’s private sitting-room, the now dangerously mobile twins bathed and asleep, and Owen sidetracked to the stables by Tobe and Jump with a rhapsody on Lord Arawn, his eyes on her had been dark.

“How much harm did you take amid all that amazement, Keladry?”

“Nothing thirty-six hours’ unmoving sleep didn’t put right, Wyldon. And none of the _Sekkinukesaku_ are much trouble to my conscience, even Lady Noriko, though once it might have been enough for someone to give her a slap and a shake. Agreeing to kill Kit doesn’t leave any excuses available, in my book. Lord Hidetaki, though … do you know about him?”

“Oh yes. I spent an evening in Corus with Their Majesties when we discussed the College.”

“Did Thayet and Roald make better sense than Jonathan and Shinko?”

“Oddly, yes, again. You look sad.”

“I am, Wyldon. Cricket has a bad case of pious awe, which is painful in a friend. And” — her heart had lightened — “Lord Sakuyo said Jonathan would have a headache for weeks if he was shown the third _kanji_. I decided I’d rather not spend a week on a boat with him in that kind of mood, so he didn’t get to see it himself. Do you disapprove?”

“I’m not sure I’d dare.” His voice had been solemn, his look bone dry, and she’d laughed, waving a hand. “But no, I don’t. It sounds perfectly sensible. His Majesty has always needed some managing. And I _think_ I understand what Her Majesty and Prince Roald said, though I can’t picture all the artwork they talked about.”

In for a groat, in for a bushel, Kel had supposed, and while the darkings showed him, she drew the three _kanji_ cleanly on a sheet of paper, and showed him how they fell in light and colour.

“Ah. Yes. Astonishing. And an amazing building. I’d like to see that with my own eyes.” He had been genuinely moved, but he was still Wyldon. “But what of Lord Hidetaki? A warrior who mis-stepped as badly as he did might properly expect to die. Or any royal servant — if he hadn’t crossed into open treason he was within a hair’s breadth of it, and had clearly been suborned in some measure, if only by playing to his innate prejudices. I’d say he got off lightly, all things considered. Nor was it you who punished him, Keladry, either time. Quite the opposite, in fact — you offered him a depth of grace everyone found humbling, if Her Majesty had it right.”

“I know all that in my head. But you didn’t hear the sound he made. I don’t think I’ve ever heard more desolation in a man’s voice.” Then she’d added another niggling truth. “He was old and sincere, for all he was being an idiot. I shouldn’t have been so much wiser than him, but I was. He was in the way, struggling, and I set him aside, as one would a child. It was needful, and I don’t doubt that, but he haunts me as the _Sekkinukesaku_ don’t.”

“Ah. Yes, sound can haunt.” He had been silent for a while, and her hand had found Dom’s. “I may be quite wrong, and presumptuous — it would hardly be the first time — but I wonder if it isn’t he who haunts you, but another sincere old idiot you had to set aside, if not quite as one would a child.”

She’d been horrified, stopped only by his swiftly upraised hand. “Gods, Wyldon, I didn’t mean anything like — ”

“No, I know you didn’t, Keladry. Nor even think it. You wouldn’t. But perhaps you should. Please.” He’d insisted on pouring glasses of wine. “I know you’re usually abstemious, as I am, but there are times, and this is one. Which doesn’t make saying this any easier, but we both know I did you great wrong before I did better, and you forgave me for it. I thank the gods for that, you know, every day. But I also recognise that the rage you can wield so devastatingly has many sources, and I am — or at any rate, the things I did are — among them, rightfully. Hear me out, please. I also know I’m far from the only old male idiot you have cause to pop from his saddle with every satisfaction, though by this stage we must be like a row of sitting ducks, so I wonder if what you feel isn’t like my sick feeling when I routinely unhorse some young pup and he falls badly?”

She’d found herself leaking silent tears as she nodded. “Yes, that’s it. Hidetaki was like a rabbit that runs the wrong way, right into a hound’s jaws. He would have preferred death to that degree of mortification, but there’s no undoing it. I almost wish the Emperor hadn’t forbidden him to commit _seppuku_ , even though I know the dead can’t help.”

“Mmm. That’s compassion, though, not command, as your tears attest. A living example may be needed. I wonder … If I went to see that painting, to gratify my own curiosity as well as giving my wife and daughter a trip they’ve been speculating about, loudly, would you like me to seek an interview? We might be of some use to one another, I think.”

She’d been speechless for a moment at the wonder of it. “Would you? But Wyldon, do you really mean to visit Yaman? You mustn’t go just on my account.”

“No, no, Keladry. I was as wrong about the Yamanis as I was about you. Their weapons are very fine, and their horses. They have some wardogs I want to investigate, too. Nor was I joking about my family wanting to go — they were very taken with the delegation that came to your wedding, and the way you look in kimonos.” She’d stared and he’d smiled. “Truly. They say they’re becoming fashionable, and who am I to argue? I might have come with you all, but Naxen asked me to stay, so a trip is overdue, really.”

She hadn’t seen Wyldon since his return, but had had a very long letter, mostly detailing visits to the Temple of Weapons (with some interesting conversations there), the Emperor’s stud, some army kennels, and Edo, as well as saying how gracious Their Imperial Majesties had been in welcoming them, but including an account of an afternoon with Lord Hidetaki discussing the value of lessons from the young. The old _kamunushi_ had (he hoped) found it helpful ; practical as ever, Wyldon had also thought meditating in isolation overdone, and suggested to Patricine the Guild might draw Hidetaki into consultation about using its new techniques for traditional structures. Kel had known from her surprised but approving sister that that had already happened, but not a detail Wyldon drily remarked, that Yamanis unfailingly referred to the old man as Blessed Hidetaki, apparently without the least irony.

“As well they might, love,” had been Dom’s only comment, but she had felt a weight ease in her heart. And perhaps that unlikely rehabilitation had been a sign of sorts, for not long afterwards the Emperor had decided things were stable enough to allow his visit to Tortall, and a flood of imperial communication had joined the flood of pilgrims. Quite how logistics and protocol could intertwine and multiply never failed to amaze her, but the net result was that he would come in the first place on private pilgrimage to New Hope and Drachifethe, before heading to Corus in state ; and the pleasing consequence was that while she was present at Mindelan when he arrived, with the Yamani ambassador and his wife, she only had to stand there while her parents welcomed him.

The harbour was bright and busy in the June sun, evidence of burgeoning Yamani and Guild trade visible everywhere, including a new temple of Sakuyo, a small but beautiful dome surrounded by a sward of hardy dunegrass between two new warehouses. As Kel had hoped, Mindelan had become a major source of petrified webbing, serving nautical demand as well as the army, and spidrens and basilisks as well as many of her father’s liegers and a thick wedge of resident Yamani merchants and factors looked on with interested anticipation as the imperial warship was warped in to the quay. Its lines weren’t much different from those of the Tortallan navy ships, but the dragon-head carving at the prow and the bright colours of kimonos were eye-catching, not least because the Empress had also come, with Prince Taikyuu, so the imperial retinue was larger than it might have been. There was also Haarist’aaniar’aan, who had been sufficiently taken with Yaman, and what his younger kin were doing with the Guild, to have decided he ought to have a more thorough look at the mortal realms ; the Emperor had rather cleverly recruited him, after a fashion, by offering freedom to go where he would, an escort, and a supply of rock delicacies in return for an evening of imperial conversation once a month, helping inform new understandings of immortals and gods. He would now be staying at New Hope for a while, and touring Tortall. Beside her, Inness whistled softly.

“That is one big basilisk. You did say, Kel, but seeing is something else. Is it like spidrens, growing as they age?”

“I think so. It’s just that most of the ones who moved to the mortal realms were of an age, give or take the odd century, so we don’t really see. But Tkaa is an inch or two taller than Var’istaan, I’ve noticed, and _he’s_ a bit taller than some at New Hope.”

“Interesting. Run me through who they all are?”

She didn’t know every face, but pointed out Keiichi, Takemahou- _sensei_ , Hayato- _sensei_ and some others, noticing the absence of Lord Kiyomori and the presence in a Second _Kamunushi_ ’s robes of Revered Eiji. Or presumably now Lord Eiji, though Blessed would cover it, either way. Explanation to Inness was curtailed as the gangplank was secured and greetings began, with the imperials strikingly informal, and revealing much improved if still accented Tortallan. Neither her Papa nor Anders had said anything when she and Tobe had assumed order of age, putting themselves after Inness, but when the Emperor and Empress came to her he offered a short bow and quirked an eyebrow when she returned it with a deeper one.

“Still so modest, Keladry- _chan_?”

“As noble subjects should be, Daichi- _shushou_.”

It was the way Yamanis had begun to refer to him, acknowledging a new affection and declaring a great reign, the old imperial title never having been used as an honorific before, and he gave a barking laugh.

“I have been waiting for someone to say that to my face. I should have known.”

“Then I should be Reiko- _kisai_ , I suppose.” The Empress took Kel’s hands, eyes warm in her white face. “You are well, Blessed Keladry- _chan_?”

“Never better, thank you, my Empress. Dom’s minding New Hope and the twins, as well as Their Majesties. Which is the greater burden I’m not sure. But Tobe though Prince Taikyuu might like some company.”

“So he would, and has a gift we must talk to you about, when we can.”

“Indeed.”

The Emperor had a glint in his eye Kel regarded with suspicion, but it had to wait as Jump demanded his own introduction, and a now elderly Nari landed on her shoulder, peeping interest ; then the ambassador and his wife were greeted with rather more formality but also warm praise that had them relaxing. Kel gave her own welcomes to Patricine, Toshuro, and her nephew and nieces, and gathered from her parents that an imperially chartered merchantman was due as well as the warship, but still some hours out as it was less handy in the fitful wind. She also discovered from Eiji that he was indeed a Lord, but had declined to leave Edo altogether, so Lord Kiyomori was spending as much time with him there as in Heian-Kyó.

“We do not much like one another, Most Blessed, truth to tell, but unlike Blessed Hidetaki he did not need telling twice, and we rub along.”

“Most Blessed?”

“Well, we had to do something, and His Imperial Majesty had already used it. Lots of people are Lord Sakuyo’s Blessed these days, but you did rather more than hear him laugh.” He gave her a look suspiciously filled with anticipation. “I’ve managed to forestall a formal shrine, but our dedication day services really can’t avoid the example you set us, Most Blessed, and you will I’m afraid be hearing from a sculptor the Mayor of Edo has insisted on commissioning.”

Kel took a deep breath and managed, just, not to roll her eyes. “So long as I don’t have to look at the result, Eiji.” She looked at the jade brooch he wore. “Did everyone get tokens of blessedness?”

“Oh yes. And by means no-one quite understands, it is accepted that those who also saw him wear them on the left” — he tapped his own — “while those who only heard his laughter from outside wear them on the right.”

Kel stifled a snort. People were very odd. “Well, I’d be grateful if you dropped the ‘Most’ here, Eiji — my people really don’t need to be given ideas.”

He smiled. “I’ll try. Perhaps more congenially, I can also say that while it will take a while to retire all those who saw politics as more important than piety, Kiyomori and I have begun, and are moving up men more of poor Hotaka’s stamp. And he joins me in bringing you most heartfelt thanks for alerting us to More Blessed Kitashi- _san_ , who has told his tale of cats and pigeons far and wide, and is doing much to bring other rural _kamunushi_ up to his own high mark.”

Kel didn’t especially want to hear of her own fame, but was pleased to know the old man was enjoying himself, and unwillingly amused by the ‘More Blessed’. Still, she was better pleased when Hayato- _sensei_ joined them to talk of the interesting work the Temple of Weapons had been doing, not least with her nephew and nieces.

“They still grumble about muscle-burn, Most Blessed, but have worked very hard. Akemi- _chan_ has some true promise, and as Lady noh Akaneru tells me she will be staying with you at New Hope for a while now, I would ask that you undertake her instruction, if your duties allow.”

“Of course. She’s written once or twice, but tell me what’s needed?”

Learned discussion of moves and stances, with adjustments Akemi’s developing curves and shifting balance were demanding, took them through the streets to the family residence. Kel had to return various greetings from people who remembered her as a child, and from merchants and shopkeepers she or the Guild dealt with, and felt the Yamanis watching with interest the combination of respect and ease.

Getting everyone to appropriate bedrooms left the residence feeling stuffed to the rafters, but in honour of the occasion Kel’s Papa had installed a proper teahouse in one of the quietest corners of the garden, and late in the afternoon she found herself there. The three imperials were present, with Keiichi, and her family, but no-one else, though servants and guards lurked. Her Mama brewed tea, smiling at the beautiful petrified-wood set Kel had given her, complete with a spell-heated kettle, and Tobe helped her serve before taking a cushion at Kel’s side, Jump thumping down at his feet and the sparrows distributing themselves on various willing shoulders. The visible flowers and branches weren’t Yamani at all, and the contrast with the neat tatami matting and niches for the scrolls was striking. But the _kanji_ on the scrolls were _jest_ , _tranquility_ , and _healthy child_ , a decision at which Kel had rolled her eyes to no avail, and after the formalities Daichi- _shushou_ nodded appreciation, staying in Yamani.

“This is very fine, Ilane- _sama_.”

“I’ve always wanted a proper teahouse, my Emperor, but there’s always been something more urgent to do, until now. So I’m delighted you honour us by inaugurating it.”

“Ah. We’re glad to be useful, then, especially when the results are so beautiful. And these wise sparrows are most charming. Did Keladry- _chan_ not object to the choice of _kanji_ , though?”

“Of course, but we took no notice. It isn’t her teahouse. And she’s done quite enough with the ones on the Pilgrims’ Way by way of rebuke.”

“Oh?”

Tobe grinned. “My favourite is the one by Stagdale, my Emperor, where the wagon livestock is bred. It looks over one of the pastures, and the _kanji_ are _mules_ , _stubborn_ , and _ridiculous_.”

“A subject worth much meditation.” Kel kept her voice demure amid the laughter. “I’ve learned a great deal from mules.”

“And they from you, I should think, my dear.” Her father shook his head, smiling. “But one tribute you’re going to have to accept gracefully.”

“Yes, indeed. Keiichi- _sensei_?”

With a perfectly straight face Keiichi produced a simple scroll with a pale monochrome ribbon and the imperial seal. And he was serious, however amused, she realised, and knew what it must be.

“The _haiku_ you are owed, Most Blessed Protector- _sensei_.”

She took it with mixed feelings, wondering what Isao- _sensei_ had come up with. Slipping the ribbon off, she unrolled it and found out.

 

_Wet blossom teaches_

_wonderful humility._

_He is still laughing._

 

The _kanji_ were as simple as they could be, the brushwork clean, and Keiichi still had an earnest look.

“Isao- _sensei_ wrote it a while ago, Most Blessed, but insisted he speak it aloud in the griffins’ presence before it be allowed. It took some time to arrange.”

“I imagine it did.” Kel had a vision of the old man scrambling up the mountains calling for griffins, and swallowed laughter, realising other immortals must have helped. “Do please convey my thanks to him, _sensei_ , for his great scruple. And tell me, does _Lord Sakuyo’s Joke_ work as I hoped?”

The Emperor answered her. “Surely, Keladry- _chan_. Scrolls of the best _haiku_ are already circulating. The most striking I recall was, _Such wealth underneath Blessed Hidetaki’s hat. I have seen ghosts smile._ ”

Kel wished she had her _shukusen_ to hide behind, and had to draw hard on the stillness of her lake. “The greyness works in your copy as well, then. It’s still potent in the big one. But Blessed Hidetaki’s hat is … a strange name in more ways than one.”

“I agree, but he found it comforting, oddly. As he did the visit of Lord Wyldon, who was most interesting on the subject of learning from you, Keladry- _chan_. A very impressive man.”

“Yes, he is, Daichi- _shushou_. I dread to think what he had to say about that, mind, though I’ve probably heard it.”

“Much but not all, I think. He confessed himself still amazed and often baffled by you, but said you had forced him to think about himself and his beliefs more deeply than anyone else, to his great benefit. And that the only large thing he had ever managed to give you was a horse, and even then only when your need for one was urgent, an advantage I do not have. But at Taikyuu’s clever insistence, we have dared to bring a horse all the same, a fine young pangare bay colt, for Tobeis- _chan_.”

Kel didn’t need to look at Tobe’s face to know she was lost, and after cushions were rearranged to let Taikyuu tell him all about it she gave the Emperor a wry look.

“It’s extremely kind of you, as well as thoroughly sneaky.”

“Emperors have to be, alas. And a princely gift was owed him in his own right, not only for _Sekkinukesaku_. But I do have one or two things for you I hope you will accept, despite your wary look. First, your _naginata_ blade has seen hard service, and was scored by that crossbow bolt. Hayato- _sensei_ measured its weight and dimensions most carefully, and believes you will be very happy with the one we have crafted as a replacement.”

Defeated again, Kel nodded meekly. “Thank you. I’ve been worrying about that, though it’s only a bad scratch.”

“Good.” He gave a genuine smile. “Lord Wyldon said I must appeal to your passions, not try to address the great worth so obvious to everyone else. Do you have a tearoom showing _horses_ , _children_ , and _naginata_?”

She had to laugh. “No, but I will. How splendid. _Umeboshi_ , _Domitan_ , and _knighthood_ would also be true, but the jokes would be too rude.”

“Sweeting!”

Her Mama sounded as scandalised as amused, but Yamanis had no problem with earthy humour, and Reiko’s eyes were dancing.

“Indeed, Keladry- _chan_. All saw your mutual devotion. And I think perhaps the last thing is for Domitan- _sama_. I do have some kimonos for you, and a teaset, but those are ordinary, and this tale is not. One among those who saw you that night in _Sorei_ was a carver of soapstone reliefs, and he was moved to a fine image of you flanked by griffins, hound, and hyena before dragons and basilisk, with stormwings above. It is now in Lord Sakuyo’s temple, where he presented it. But the night after he had done so he dreamed vividly, waking with a great urge to carve. And when he heard our pilgrimage announced he came to the Daidairi, showing his work and asking if he might come to our presence. The guards needed only one look to pass him through, and he asked us if we would bear this to you.”

She took up a package she had brought, a small but heavy box, and in the Yamani manner with boxed gifts opened it and removed cotton padding before passing it to Kel, whose breath caught as Nari peeped surprise from her shoulder. It was quite unlike most soapstone work, a relief portrait in one polished face of an irregular piece of red-veined stone, but it showed her laughing the terrible laugh, serene and deadly, and some trick of carving or rock brought it alive. Memory of the moment flared — Fujiwara’s sneer, the distorting space that announced dragons, and her merciless amusement laced with unavailing sorrow for fools. But her lake was calm, and the image only truth. Distantly the thought came to her that once this knowledge would have left her horrified at herself, but no longer.

“Lord Sakuyo’s hand, and Lord Gainel’s, I imagine. And yes, for Dom, not me.” She passed it to her Papa, whose face froze, and looked at Reiko. “Did the carver dream its name?”

She nodded. “Oh yes, though he said he didn’t think he understood it properly. _The Burden_.”

Kel closed her eyes. “Yes. That’s the one.”

* * * * *

Time did not allow the Emperor to walk the Pilgrim’s Way, as he would genuinely have wished, and in fine weather they easily rode two and sometimes three walking stages a day. Kel and her Papa had had the road built wide enough for wagons to pass, though bridges and fords were still bottlenecks and muletrains had to be manoeuvred around. But with the way basilisks had transformed layered gravel into a smooth surface, slightly angled to shed rain, both foot and wheeled traffic flowed easily. The way pilgrims hastily stepped aside for a fast-moving mounted party bothered her, but it wouldn’t happen very often, and gods knew those stepping aside were more pleased than irritated to do so, calling out praise-greetings in Yamani when they saw for whom they made way.

Tobe’s new colt was too young to be ridden on such a journey, but trotted beside him happily, already as entranced by his horse magic as he by its beauty. Kel helped him with the grooming, enjoying the animal herself, its classic lines promising a valuable addition to New Hope’s breeding stock. Prince Taikyuu was there, as often as not, his and Tobe’s conversation a bewildering mix of Yamani and Tortallan, and she came to know him a little better, appreciating his intelligent understanding of the changes that were underway in Yaman, and would profoundly affect his own life, as they were affecting his parents’ lives and reigns.

Kel had been genuinely surprised by Reiko’s appearance on the first morning in riding leathers and without face paint, but not even Yamani protocol could sensibly insist that a woman riding daily forty-mile stages should be whitely expressionless, and she was taking advantage. Her retinue and maids of necessity followed her lead, but that didn’t mean she or any of them found it easy, and Kel and her Mama reckoned progress in a decreasing daily count of _shukusen_ uses. Paint still appeared at evening stops and brief teahouse ceremonies, including one at Stagsford amid the _kanji_ Tobe admired, but that was only to be expected. And as word could not outpace them, they created a rippling wave of shock as pilgrims realised what they were seeing, and converted praise-greetings to more personal acclaimation. Shouts of Reiko- _kisai_ joined those of Daichi- _shoshou_ within a day, and Kel was contemplating complex looks on imperial faces when Keiichi ranged beside her, following her gaze.

“Have I ever told you how happy I am my sister had the great wisdom to befriend you all those years ago?”

“Several times, Keiichi, as you know perfectly well. But those looks are Lord Sakuyo’s doing, and their own, not mine.”

“All together, Keladry, as _you_ know perfectly well, however you squirm about it. I saw you beguile your King’s Council, and all those most bearded Scanrans, so I know when you have done as much to Yaman.”

Kel grinned. “You should see the Council of Ten these days. I went up to Hamrkeng a couple of months back for a meeting, and Ragnar Ragnarsson had fixed it for Lord Sakuyo’s day. What Scanrans think good jests you really don’t want to know.”

Keiichi thought about it, and shuddered delicately. “I am very sure I don’t. Such an alarming notion. But I shall not succumb to your talent for distraction, Keladry. You were in Yaman barely two weeks, yet you left us deeply beguiled. Despite his excruciating accent, Nealan is quite right you were Lord Sakuyo’s favoured partner in three very great jests. It is entirely mortifying, and I am most properly grateful.”

“Don’t you start. And don’t encourage Neal — he was bad enough when the temple at Queenscove was dedicated.”

“Ah yes. Yuki- _chan_ wrote me a long letter, thrilled by the High One’s blessing.”

“I was better pleased it was _only_ blossom, Keiichi. His Nibs must be in a mellow mood, resting after his labours. I hope.” She got a sidelong look. “But it’s a nice building, a bit grander than the one at Mindelan but just as pleasing. Geraint’s getting very good at using line rather than fussy ornaments.”

“This I was told also, though in rather more words. And his work is being closely followed.” He shook his head. “How is it you bring so many new things?”

“But I don’t, Keiichi. The world turned, and they brought themselves. I just try to use them. It’s made New Hope one big experiment, where my job is keeping everyone safe, fed, and happy.”

In a week of travel Kel had many such conversations with members of the Yamani party, some prompted by Nari and her flock, performing their usual scouting duties to fascinated astonishment, some by the way the guard system worked, some by the smooth roadway and the elegant, arched bridges Guild teams had built over anything wide or deep enough to be a nuisance, and others by simple curiosity and received rumour. Having to repeat herself so often was tedious, but the exercise served its purpose, shifting inhibiting respect towards practical engagement. Anders and Inness were a great help, an alarmed Vorinna having been left in charge at Mindelan, and the chance to talk with them both was a blessing. And in an odd way the pilgrims helped too, for while pious they were also cheerful with adventure and the sights of a foreign land, and mostly seemed to classify her as just one more marvel among many. At the lunchtime and evening stops they saw her easy interaction with her tenant innkeeps and their families, or with mixed guard troops, listening with her Papa to what was going well and what might need some adjustment, and found themselves being asked for any complaints or suggestions they might have. Footcare was inevitably a concern, but there was at least a hedgewitch at most wayhouses, and sometimes a healer, as well as cobblers and farriers ; she did think, though, that some children accompanying parents, and some older pilgrims, were being pushed to their limit, and made a note to see about making some more mules and small wagons available on the stages with steeper climbs.

From Mindelan the Way ran through open land for several days, climbing only gently, but as it angled north towards New Hope the first outliers of the Grimholds made for more rugged terrain, hillsides more wooded, with firs appearing, and the streams a little faster and colder. Besides the wayhouses settlement was still sparse, though one or two new farms occupied valley bottoms, and livestock was pastured on greener and gentler slopes. The old route had gone via Frasrlund and the Vassa Road, so this cross-country angle wasn’t yet familiar, and she hadn’t quite appreciated how it worked on pilgrims, both in the practicalities of travel and on what she supposed one had to call a spiritual plane. The road, inevitably, was still a raw line through the land, and as the land became wilder, occasional night wolfsong closer and the smells of earth, trees, and water dominant, the sense of a rising progress towards a sacred destination grew steadily. Sightings of the hounds also increased, for though some had ranged as far as Mindelan itself, causing a considerable stir, they preferred the higher ground and trees. During the day there might only be one asleep on some sunny ledge above the road, or glimpsed loping across a hillside, but nights showed her just how skilfully they were wheedling bones and more. Few pilgrims wanted meat, but the innkeeps and their families did, hunting for it with her blessing, and the hounds knew when they’d made a kill. Arriving with Eiji at the wayhouse a day short of the Great North Road, not far south of Mastiff, she found one happily dealing with what looked like most of a haunch of venison, pilgrims in a wide and fascinated circle, and shook her head.

“You’re going to get fat, Moradaunt, and then where will we be?”

His tongue lolled in a laugh. _You should take us hunting again, then, Protector. And why should I chase deer when these nice mortals do it for me?_

“Incorrigible.”

 _Of course I am. Go ahead, little one._ This last was to Jump, who settled in happily at the other end of the haunch, crooked tail wagging, as Moradaunt looked at her ironically. _You can’t say_ he _doesn’t earn his food, Protector. Oh, and when you’re done with all these guests, you should go and hear that old tale-teller you once met, who specialises in us. He was delighted to meet us, once he got over his fright, so we told him about our Yamani hunt and he has added it to his repertoire. Some details are a bit exaggerated but he’s got most of it right, and does tell it well._

“Worse and worse.” But it wasn’t as if the tale wasn’t already in wide circulation, and a reasonably accurate version was as much as she could hope for ; besides, she remembered that old man with pleasure, and thought she might indeed look him up, and invite him to visit New Hope. Tobe and Irnai would be interested, too. “I must get on, but my thanks on Jump’s behalf and my best to Malandra.”

_Of course._

Kel headed for the wayhouse proper, Eiji still beside her.

“Who is Malandra, Blessed?”

“His mate.”

“Indeed.” He hesitated. “It is said you called all the hounds’ names that night, but none could remember them.”

“The power went with the staff, Eiji, but not the knowledge it had given. And there’s at least one book Numair has that names them all rightly, so I don’t think it’s any secret.” She gave him a smile. “Knowing which one you’re seeing might be trickier, mind. That _is_ a lingering blessing of the staff, I think.”

“Ah. I would be glad of the title, Blessed. Lord Weiryn is a most interesting god, I find. Bowmaker, hunter, wild justicer, and husband to a new goddess of fertility.”

“More childbirth, I think. But yes, Weiryn’s all of those. Daine has some good stories, but she’s picky about when and to whom she tells them.”

Reiko, hands massaging her lower back after the day’s riding, had come up behind them, listening, and cocked her head.

“The Godborn is at New Hope, Keladry- _chan_?”

“She is, my Empress. Numair’s teaching his magic-blending seminar, and she feels an obligation to the birds she magicked during the war. They find it hard to go back to being ordinary hawks and owls, she says, so she does, well, counselling sessions, I suppose.”

“More kindness in wonder. And I do like your Jump and sparrows. I always wished as a child that my cats could speak, and your horse-sergeant on his rounds is a great favourite amid tales of you.”

“Peachblossom? Huh. You should tell him so, and he’ll slobber proud gratitude. He’s getting on, though, and his leg aches, which makes him grumpy. Lord Arawn’s visit helped — he was dizzy with excitement after that.” So had everyone else been who’d seen the magnificent horse god. “But age is age.”

“Truly, as my back is telling me.”

“Not far now. And New Hope has a _hot_ bath.”

Properly speaking, Kel had been the imperials’ host since they had left the duchy of Mindelan for her own western lands, but her parents had continued in the role so far as evening seating and the like were concerned. That would change at New Hope, where her blessed Papa refused to exert any paternal or ducal prerogatives, and as the Way became the Great North Road, entering the Greenwoods valley, they dropped back and she and Tobe rode beside the imperials. The westering sun still lit the face of the fin, but the rich summer fields were already mostly empty, and the cliffs dotted with lights. Ogre terracing gleamed white against darker hillside, and Geraint’s glasshouse flared reflections, hiding the young orange and lemon trees within. To Kel the best thing was the sound of children playing, happy with extended bedtimes on long summer evenings, and the sparrows who swirled about as those who had stayed greeted the returners, but she suspected the Emperor was seeing with a more military eye. He and the Empress did look intently at the line of dormitories as well as the corral, and like Wyldon praised the clear instructions for arriving pilgrims ; but when they passed the fin and came to the stone bridge, guards saluting, he paused, staring at the gleaming icelights and the great dragon-sign, radiant in the dusk, then looking around, and finally cranking his head back to peer up at the towering height of the fin.

“You were up _there_ , Keladry- _chan_?”

“I was, yes. Let’s get people on their way, my Emperor, and I’ll show you.”

Maids and servants needed time to unpack, and once the baggage animals and retinue were past, their noise receding, she pointed.

“Trebuchet. Maggur’s pavilion. So for the first painting, Daichi- _shushou_ , I was there, on the North Tower, where the stormwing younglings are perched, for the second up on the fin, and for the third just about here, when the sally force came round from the coral. High, higher, and very gratefully back on the ground. And there, right on cue, is Junior, coming to see what the fuss is about.”

The Emperor nodded, eyeing the circling griffin kit and the small stormwings who took off to greet him, but his gaze dropped back to New Hope and became hooded.

“And men charged up that roadway. Madness.”

“Desperation, and battle-blindness, yes. And the _berserkir_. Pure force. It might well have worked if I hadn’t had the dragonfire, but once they were broken, that was it, with only Maggur himself to mop up.”

“A little more than that, I think.”

“Not really, my Empress, though the oathtaking went on for _ever_.”

“So your esteemed father said. And that gleaming area is where Takemahou- _sensei_ ’s mageblasts did their job?”

“Yes. But do you remember I said the _haiku_ naming Blessed Hidetaki’s Hat was strange for more than one reason? Well, come and see.”

As they rode towards the base of the fin, still accompanied by a swirl of sparrows, she explained about the odd custom New Hopers had developed of touching the fallen outcrop for luck, and the mud tracked onto the roadway and gatehouse, to Uinse’s irritation.

“The sough had to be repaired after the outcrop fell, and still tended to leak, so I had that fixed properly, but when I heard you were coming, my Emperor, I had a better idea. We’ll need to dismount. Tobe, hold the horses?”

She led them to the flagged path that now ran from road to outcrop, bridging the new sough over a drystone arch the ogres had created for her, and opened a gate to let them through the cutting in the low, grassy bank made of the earth displaced by the outcrop’s fall. The sparrows settled on it, but the path continued to its base, forking around curving mossy sides, and on either hand were Yamani stone gardens, fine white gravel lapping around carefully placed rocks chosen for colour, texture, shape, and something beyond all of them she thought of as the rock’s grace in its own being. Beaded icelights glowed softly along the borders, hazing some natural shadows while others strengthened as the twilight deepened. She was very pleased with it even without the joke, and she liked the joke a lot.

“Oh!” The Empress clapped her hands softly, eyes wide. “This is splendid.”

Kel nodded. “I think so. And the basilisks loved doing it, as did Kit, who likes lighting up the rocks. It was only finished a few days before I had to leave for Mindelan.” She switched to Yamani. “The thing is, my Emperor, people had a name for the fallen outcrop that I wasn’t happy about, though I saw the humour. I fired the mageblasts, after all, to drop it on Gissa’s and Tolon’s heads, and they called it _Lady Kel’s Hat_ , much as they call the look-out post up on the fin-top my eyrie. It’s quite a good joke, really, but it’s far too big a hat for me, and if people are going to be touching it for luck, it should be properly dedicated. And you know, it _does_ look like a hat, but not any Tortallan hat I’ve ever seen.” Kel took a breath. “So, my Emperor, I renamed it _Lord Sakuyo’s Hat_ , and insist on the proper name. He didn’t say anything, but next day those little flowers of his were growing in the moss, as you can see, so he was amused at my answer to his joke with the paintings. But I haven’t dared tell Takemahou- _sensei_ yet, and I’d be very grateful if you could do it for me.”

She didn’t actually think the prickly warmage would mind at all, but asking gently capped so many jokes and tensions. The Emperor looked at his wife and son, drew a deep breath himself, becoming serene, and bowed to the mossy rock.

“But of course, Keladry- _chan_. And this is perfect. There will be more _haiku_ , though.”

She didn’t have to count. “There already are.” She grinned, squatting to score the _kanji_ in the gravel, and saw him realise. “So long as it doesn’t start happening spontaneously anywhere else. But I’m sincerely glad you like it. Time for a bath and some food, though.”

They were just back through the cutting when she saw Tobe’s new colt rear as Junior skidded in to land rather closer than a horse could think reasonable. Tobe’s hand shot out to grasp the hooked beak.

“Junior! Behave! He’s new, he’s gorgeous, he’s mine, and if you scare him again I’ll pull out your tail-feathers myself, never mind Ma.”

Released, Junior eyed Tobe for a minute before booting at his knee, and almost managed to look contrite.

“Un-huh. I _mean_ it.” Tobe swiftly gripped the feathered body tightly, and rose, lifting him within the colt’s easy reach. “Here. Tanrei- _chan_ , this is Junior, a young griffin. Junior, this is Tanrei. Now make nice.”

Neither party seemed altogether sure of this instruction, but a glare from Tobe had Junior leaning forward to breathe into Tanrei’s nostrils, as one should greeting a horse, and inhaling Tanrei’s breath in his turn before a wriggle demanded he be set down to boot again at Tobe’s knee.

Kel let out a breath of her own. “Now _that’s_ a wonder and a half.”

* * * * *

She had taken the imperials, royals in tow, north to Dragontown, for Drachifethe and a side-dish of diplomacy, Jorvik Hamrsson and some of the Council of Ten taking the chance to pay respects and put faces to names. She had taken them west to see the first set of gated channels bypassing a run of rapids on the Vassa, and inspect the second, much greater set that were still under construction. She had hosted dinners in the gleaming messhall, for Ennor of Frasrlund, Ferghal haMinch, and some lesser lords to pay their own respects, as well as some senior divines and mages from the City of the Gods. She had introduced them to scores of immortals, from Quenuresh and no less than eight stormwings younger than Amourta to a visiting _kudarung_ and even an unusually bold water-sprite who’d taken up residence in the moat ; _and_ sponsored presentations by the Guild and Numair of experiments in progress, including a further extension of the range of the mirror-spell with a way of relaying them by binding two mirrors face to face, which would make Tortallan–Carthaki contact possible and could open a link with Yaman, if king or emperor was prepared to have a boat permanently sailing in circles in the middle of the Emerald Ocean, which it had sounded as if they were. She had conducted a Samradh service with some marriages and namedays, where the Emperor had offered Lord Weiryn formal thanks for the services of the Hunt, and the double shrine had very satisfactorily glowed silver while Wuodan and Frige looked ironically on. She had even, with the help of family and friends, created some quiet times and spaces in which imperials and royals could renew and develop personal ties without godly or political nonsense to set them on edge.

And on this twenty-fourth birthday she’d hosted a farewell ball with a guest-list from which only gods were missing. The food had been spectacular, the laughter loud, and the dancing energetic. Things had wound down at last, and the twins had run themselves into happy exhaustion and been carted off to the nursery, but Diamondflame and Rainbow were still occupying the green, tripping down centuries of memory lane with Quenuresh, Barzha and other stormwings, some ogres, and Haarist’aaniar’aan, and the last time she’d seen them the imperials had been fishing for stories from an unlikely gathering of Uinse, Mikal, Fanche, and a bemused Connac (now running a second, soldier’s tavern with his new Goatstrack wife and a light but unwavering hand). They would at least be sensible stories, and probably amusing, but she would inhibit the tellers, so tact and duty coincided nicely and she’d slipped out on the evening round she rarely missed when resident. A balmy night and many people still talking softly in the dark made the alures less than a refuge, and she had welcomed the solitary climb to her eyrie, especially once she was past Jonathan’s commissioned panels depicting the siege and there was only the clean rock and the cool air beyond the icelight railings.

The duty guards welcomed her without surprise, and nothing to report. She knew Uinse had arranged a split shift so none would be on duty throughout the festivities, and after asking after one’s ailing mother she just looked out over the heart of her fief, breathing deeply and letting her lake calm from the crowded emotions of the evening. She was contemplating the distant lights of Riversedge when she felt time slow, and wasn’t surprised to look round and see Lord Sakuyo smiling at her while the guards noticed nothing at all.

“Happy birthday, daughter.”

She bowed. “Hello, my lord, and thank you. For that soapstone carving too, and to Lord Gainel if he was involved. Dom adores it.” He waved a hand and she frowned slightly. “You’re being very discreet.”

“It’s a talent of mine. No-one will know I am here, except you and older immortals.” His eyes were as starry as the thickly spangled sky. “You’ve managed to calm my Yamanis down again so nicely, and a proper visit would undo all the good work.”

She considered him with some suspicion. “That’s a new tack.”

“Repeating a joke is beneath my dignity.” He winked at her. “But yes, it is. I came partly with a message from my brother Weiryn, who agrees his hounds are getting fat despite all the employments you have found for them, and would like to talk to you sometime soon about giving them another proper run. Hush a minute. The staff doesn’t have to knock you out like that, nor need lawful prey always die. This business of stormings and the Hunt needs some working out as well. But there’s some fathers and husbands with thirsty heads and heavy hands that Sarra’s taken a strong dislike to, not unreasonably, so he was wondering if you and Wuodan might kindly scare them into rather better behaviour.”

She caught her dropping jaw. “That is … tempting, my lord. And dangerous.”

“Protecting children is what you do, Keladry- _chan_. Among other things, of course. Do the means matter so much?”

“They might, my lord. But I’ll talk to Lord Weiryn and Wuodan, certainly.”

“Good. Sarra’s been wanting to invite you to dinner again anyway, to talk about _wanizame_ peppers, Yukimi’s marvellous pickles, and her delightful shrine in Heian-Kyó. Clever of you, that. Diamondflame will be invited too, and will bring you, with Domitan and Tobeis, if they wish.”

“Huh.” She knew when she was being dragooned by gods, and commandingly wheedled by dragons, but having them working in prearranged tandem was a departure. And she had a nasty suspicion she had only herself to blame. “You said _partly with a message_ , my lord?”

“So I did. I also wanted to tell you _I_ don’t mind if my Yamanis make shrines to you — which they are, and will, whatever Eiji thinks — because it only honours me the more. So don’t fret about it.” Kel rolled her eyes, and he smiled. “And to thank you for my marvellous new hat, of course. The stone gardens are delightful too, blossoming as beautifully as your sense of humour. I’m all pride in my own skill as a teacher, daughter.”

She swallowed both alarm and a laugh. “As you should be, _sensei_. Do I make journeywoman jester, then?”

He laughed, but only as an old man might. “Surely, daughter. You did that at Heian-kyo, when your jest fitted within mine so very well, and mastery awaits you yet. Do you wonder we all watch with bated breath?”

“Piffle, my lord. But I’m glad you liked the hat joke. I meant it, you know, most earnestly.”

He laughed again. “Of course you did. It is so very touching. And I cannot recall when any mortal last told any god they spoke piffle. Marvellous.”

“Can’t you? It’s not as if there isn’t frequent … occasion.” But she was talking to air, and the guards looked round.

“Lady Kel?”

“Just a stray thought. I’ll make sure your reliefs don’t dawdle.”

They thanked her and she slipped back down the spiral to the top of the steps, looking at New Hope, a dense pattern of lights and beings, and even at this height a murmuring buzz of conversation on the night air. Diamondflame glanced up at her for a long second, but didn’t speak, and she began a slow, thoughtful descent, wondering at the sheer oddity of the gods, and whatever it was they’d made of her. Shrines to her? It seemed blasphemous as well as absurd, and it was all very well His Nibs telling her not to fret ; but if he heard the prayers they received … and what could she do about it, anyway? Command and glory had never been part of her childhood dream and adult determination, let alone worship, any more than dying so stupidly and being sent back, with all that had followed. But she didn’t have them instead, she had them as well, because whatever else she did, she protected, the small and anyone else who needed it. And if the Hunt could truly ride in warning rather than vengeance, it wasn’t a resource to be wasted.

Dom was waiting in the fin gallery, and she looked a question

“Diamondflame said you’d be glad of some company again, and that His Nibs had dropped by. Trouble?”

“No, though not untroubling, love. Mostly birthday wishes and a thank you for his new hat, but also a message from Lord Weiryn.”

“Ah. I might have guessed. Restive hounds?”

“Among other things. I’d rather sneak off to bed, but it seems we should have a word with Diamondflame while he’s here. Oh, and I promised the guards I’d chase their reliefs up on time.”

“Of course you did.” Dom shook his head. “They’re already in the gatehouse, love. Arrol sent them word as soon as he saw you heading up there, as all the duty sergeants always do. So it’s just dragons before bedtime.”

“Oh. Good. On we go, then.”

 


End file.
